


Love in a Memory

by raendown



Series: Requested Works [25]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Amnesia, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2020-01-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:48:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 27,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21956890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raendown/pseuds/raendown
Summary: They wake in a forest far from home. Bodies lay dead and broken across the clearing. All they can remember is their names.(Madara falls in love with a single look.)
Relationships: Senju Tobirama/Uchiha Madara
Series: Requested Works [25]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1237331
Comments: 153
Kudos: 772





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WrithingBeneathYou](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WrithingBeneathYou/gifts).



> Oh you thought Christmas Day would stop me from posting? lol
> 
> This "requested work" is thanks to the dear WBY, bless your whole heart for giving me an excuse to write this.

The first bit of reality to intrude itself upon him was the headache. A pounding on the inside of his skull unlike anything he would think the human body was capable of. Either his head was about to spontaneously implode or a herd of elephants had been busy stampeding over his temples while he slept.

Speaking of which, he couldn’t remember falling asleep. Or where he was. Or much of anything, really. Madara kept his eyes closed and extended his senses to the world around him, a natural action that he gave no thought to until he’d already done it and realized he couldn’t remember _how_ he knew to do that. Something, he concluded, was very wrong. Panic threatened to rise up and overwhelm him but it was kept at bay as his senses spread and he encountered what could only be described as a center of calm.

Eyes cracking open, Madara groggily blinked at what appeared to be an open forest canopy above him, sunlight filtering through deep green leaves. When he rolled his head to the side he was met with the sight of a bemused looking man with no pigment in either his skin or his hair. The only colors on him were the red streaks painted on his face and the blue lacquer of his heavy armor. But the _feeling_ of him. Underneath the confusion Madara could somehow feel his presence and the sensations playing against him brought to mind words like ‘ocean’ and ‘still water’ and, most oddly of all, ‘calm home’. Having the other man there calmed the anxiety and the terror of realizing he couldn’t remember a single thing except his own name and by Madara's logic that could only mean one thing.

Clearly they must know each other. Trust each other. Obviously this man was important to him somehow.

Knowing the unstable emotions he himself was experiencing, he decided it would probably be best to wait and see if his companion was going through something similar. If they were both panicking then making sudden movements wouldn’t help anything. He rather hoped the other did know what going on, though. It would be nice to find out what they were doing that led them here and where they were supposed to go now. Where was home?

Waiting turned out to be a good choice. As was the decision to remain prone on the ground as he had been when he awoke. If he’d been standing then he wasn’t sure his knees would not have buckled out from underneath him when the man at his side turned and hit him with a doe eyed look, red irises sparkling in the dappled sunlight. Heart thundering in his chest, Madara blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“I think I love you.”

“Ah?”

“Shit, I mean, hi? Do you know where we are? Do you know _who_ we are?”

The man blinked slowly and tilted his head to one side like a confused animal. “No. To both questions. We appear to be in a forest and I feel no hostility at your presence so my first guess would be that we know each other but that’s as much information as I have.” His head lifted to tilt in the other direction. “Do you feel romantically towards me? Perhaps there’s a reason we’re here together.”

He didn’t seem to be panicking the way Madara was. Lucky.

“I feel…attraction. And distress. Not knowing where or who I am isn’t really ideal but I feel like I’m safer with you here. Is that weird?”

“Not if I feel the same, I suppose. Explaining why would be difficult but there is a certain reassurance in your presence. Your…hm. I can’t seem to recall the word for it. The feel of you even though we’re not physically touching.” His companion twisted pale lips from side to side in thought and Madara had to force himself to look away from the movement.

“You feel like cool waters,” he offered, puffing his chest out slightly to receive a pleased look for his efforts.

“Then you understand what I’m talking about, yes. I would describe your presence as smoke and heat with an undercurrent of something sharp. Like the tang of copper on my tongue but more pleasant. Words really do not do it justice.”

Madara hummed with amusement. “How poetic.” Then he grinned when the other man scowled a little.

“Oh shut up.”

Such a transaction between them felt completely natural. Maybe that was how they flirted with each other? It certainly felt like flirting, what with the way the other had turned his head away only to peek back with the echoes of a smile forming at the edge of his lips. His mouth was almost as pretty as his eyes. Madara allowed his gaze to linger there for a few moments, happy that his original assumption of some relationship between them seemed more and more to be true, but eventually he dragged his attention away to focus on other things.

A quick scan told him that the clearing they had woken in was not quite the pristine, undisturbed utopia that he’d gotten a first impression of from staring up at the canopy. The ground close by had been torn up by what could only be human intervention and several of the nearby trees were marked with missing chunks of bark or suspicious stains. Most telling, however, were the bodies. Or rather he should say his reaction to the bodies was the most telling. Several men and women scattered the far side of the clearing in various states of maiming, a few of them charred to a crisp and others removed from certain body parts. Yet here he sat surveying the damage with no bile in his throat, no distaste for the macabre tableau before him, only a very enveloping sort of calm and a vague hope that he had been the cause of so much damage. Whoever did all this must have had fun.

“Do you think there’s any clues to be found here about who we are?” he asked.

“If it helps, I believe my name is Tobi. No…Tobirama.”

“Tobirama.” Madara rolled the name around a few times. “I like the sound of that; you do look like a Tobirama. Mine is Madara, I think.”

A quick once over of his own body revealed very little in the way of identification, though it did reveal that he was wearing a headband with the same symbol etched in to it as the happuri Tobirama was wearing. Yet another sign that they were connected in some way or at least part of a group together. It was nice to know he belonged somewhere.

Having traded names and found no other identification on themselves the two set about exploring the carnage around them. Bodies were turned over, dismembered heads were rolled closer to the epicenter, and pockets were rifled through. They found a lot of interesting tidbits yet at the end of it all Madara couldn’t say he knew any more about what happened than he had when he sat up and looked at the scene for the first time. Or maybe the second time. Clearly if he’d woken up here then he must have passed out here at some point so he probably saw this all happen even if he didn’t remember it right now. Hopefully he would soon.

With no idea where they had come from the next thing to do was decide where to go, made harder by the fact that they had no idea either where they were or what direction they might find some sort of town in. After a quick debate Tobirama mentioned that he was pretty sure he could feel a large collection of other presences off to the east so, without any better options, they headed that way. It took a couple hours but eventually Madara too was able to feel the massive collection of other ‘people sensations’ as he had dubbed them in his head. Even if no one there knew them maybe someone could explain how the hell he was feeling where people were without being able to see them.

The town, when they finally arrived, was of no help in any of the regards he was hoping for. By the way many of the people were looking at them he had assumed someone would be able to provide an identity of some sort but their questions were all met with evasive answers and vague words about shinobi. His guess was that ‘shinobi’ meant some kind of warrior but obviously they had figured as much for themselves. The armor and the battlefield were enough hints for that.

All hope was not lost, however, as one person did manage to give them a bit of information by accident, cursing them as the ‘beasts of Konoha’ which Madara had to admit was a pretty cool moniker. He really hoped that was actually their name and not just a superstitious insult of some kind. Konoha at least gave them a point of inquiry to keep asking around and despite the many strange looks they continued to get eventually someone helpfully sketched out a map on a teahouse napkin to show them where the village was located. Tobirama held the little napkin in a firm yet careful grip as they thanked the man, both of them happy to have a name for a place that might be home.

Unfortunately the journey there was supposed to be ‘three days by their speeds’, whatever that was supposed to mean, so there was still quite a bit of time left before they found more answers. Travelling wasn’t so bad with such a captivating companion at his side but Madara did wish he could get rid of the nagging feeling at the back of his mind telling him that he was forgetting something. He was more than aware that he’d forgotten something.

He’d forgotten everything.

Still, things weren’t terrible with Tobirama there. They made easy conversation as they wandered their way through what they eventually learned was called Fire Country in direct opposition of the rains threatening them over the course of their entire journey. Thankfully the deluge managed to hold itself in check until they found an inn on the second day, at which point it came pouring down from the sky as though the gods were angry and this their chosen vengeance. Scowling out through the window, hoping this stupid weather was over by the time they set out tomorrow, Madara thought to himself that it was a fairly effective vengeance. Water could be dangerous. Obviously he couldn’t think of any specific reason for him to think that but it was a knowledge he felt deep in his bones.

“Oh.” A soft exclamation from behind drew his attention probably faster than a loud shout would have. Madara spun to find Tobirama with his eyes wide and his hands out in front of him bearing a small mountain of scrolls that he could swear had not been in the room before.

“Where did you get those?” he asked.

“From my arm.”

Madara blinked. “What?”

“This tattoo here on my wrist.” Tobirama nodded vaguely in the direction of his left hand. “It doesn’t match the rest of the markings on my body so I was tracing it and it felt like there was some energy coming from it. What else was I supposed to do? I tried to imitate the energy. Then suddenly I’m holding an armful of scrolls that- I swear they just _popped_ in to existence!”

“I believe you. I just…can’t believe you.” He shrugged when Tobirama gave him an exasperated look, unsure how else to phrase it.

So far Tobirama hadn’t shown himself to be the lying sort but there was an undeniably fantastical element to the idea that scrolls – or anything really – could just poof themselves in to existence. To make up for his lack of faith he moved over to help set all the scrolls down so they could sort through the mess and figure out what extra madness they had just materialized. From thin air. As one does.

Madara couldn’t say whether it was normal or not so he elected not to get all worked up about it.

For the most part each of the scrolls were fairly identical with only minor differences. A few of them had actual writing covering the parchment but the rest all depicted the same large sprawling pattern of concentric circles and kanji that didn’t seem connected to each other in any significant way. What differentiated them was the small list in the bottom left corner of each scroll. One list contained toiletry items, another listed all the necessities for camping out in the woods, and yet another contained a list of foods that Madara's empty stomach would have appreciated very much just then. Without any money they’d been filling their bellies with whatever edible flora they happened across on their journey. Ironically money was listed on one of the scrolls as well.

“Wish we could make this shit poof in to existence as well,” he grumbled to himself, rereading the food list and listening to his stomach growl. Tobirama lifted the scroll in his own hands and squinted at the design.

“This looks remarkably similar to the design on my wrist. I wonder…”

He spread a random scroll out across the single bed they had paid for by working in the kitchen for a few hours each. Before Madara could ask him to finish his train of thought he was spreading his hand out on the design and pushing against the parchment, _reaching_ for it in a way Madara couldn’t describe even as he felt it happening. A moment later they both cried out in surprise as an open bag of toiletries appeared in a puff of smoke, falling over to spill its contents on to the threadbare covers.

“I wasn’t expecting that,” Tobirama admitted. “Although in retrospect I realize that I should have been.”

“TOOTHPASTE!” Awe and mystery dissipated like smoke in favor of snatching up the small white tube of heaven and darting in to the bathroom. There was no telling which of those toothbrushes had been his own but Madara didn’t care. He had ten perfectly healthy fingers to rub the paste across his teeth, cleaning his mouth out with more than river water for the first time in days. When he came back out Tobirama was visibly trying to contain his laughter.

“Always nice to see one’s efforts appreciated,” he said.

Madara flushed. “Yeah. Thanks. That’s…a really neat trick you’ve figured out.”

“Indeed. Now that I know how to remove items from these scrolls I believe we should have access to whatever is listed in the corner of each. The only problem is that I’m not sure how to get the items back in to whatever pocket dimension they’re stored in.”

“Pocket dimension?”

His companion shrugged. “An assumption. I can’t imagine how else things could appear out of nowhere like that if they’re not stored somewhere.”

“Well maybe they exist somewhere else and that funky design just…moves them. From there to here. Like an instant transport through that pocket dimension instead of being stored inside it. Would that make sense?” Madara fought down the urge to squirm as Tobirama’s head swung around to pin him in place.

“I have never found you more attractive.”

“Uh?”

“Sorry. I don’t know where that came from. Okay I lied, I’m not sorry, you being smart is incredibly attractive and I suddenly have very little interest in experimenting with these scrolls anymore. Do you want to make out instead?”

None of the words trying to come out of his mouth seemed to be working properly so Madara settled for nodding frantically and throwing himself across the bed. It probably wasn’t his most graceful move ever but as far as his memory went this was his first kiss and Tobirama didn’t seem to mind his bumbling too much so he chose not to focus on anything other than the feeling of pale lips under his own and the sound of toiletries scattering as they were pushed off the bed. A little enthusiasm never hurt anyone.

As they had for the last couple of nights the two of them shared blankets when they went to sleep, though their rather enthusiastic kisses did not lead to anything more intimate. Madara tried not to ask himself whether they might have if they had any oil or other lubricants. That was one ‘what if’ he wasn’t sure he wanted the answer to. Waking up in the morning was a slow lazy process with dark hair wrapped around their limbs and another round of slow kisses to drag them both out of dreamland and be ready for the day ahead. The more time they spent together the more it became obvious that their first instincts were right. Surely they must have been in a relationship for quite some time before whatever incident took their memories. They fit too well together for anything else to be true.

Madara wanted to preen every time he thought about it. Clearly Tobirama was a great catch and he was the one who caught the man. He wished he knew whose face to rub that in.

The stranger who sent them towards Konoha had told them it would only be a three day journey but they must have somehow been travelling much too slow since it actually ended up taking them double that to find themselves on the edge of quite an impressive looking village surrounded by thick walls and nearly overwhelming on both of their senses. The only way in without jumping those walls seemed to be through a set of massively tall gates where two soldier types were standing guard, bodies languid but their eyes alert for anything.

“You think we’re allowed in?” Madara asked from one corner of his mouth.

“Supposedly we live here,” Tobirama pointed out. “We can only be right or wrong and we won’t know which until we attempt to gain entry.”

“Right. Here goes nothing.”

Wrapping himself in as much confidence as he could muster Madara stepped out from the cover of the forest and headed straight for that much too tall gate, keeping his eyes straight ahead in an attempt to give the impression that he knew he belonged here. Tobirama’s presence just a step behind did wonders to keep him calm as they approached the guards but to his amazement none of his worrying had been necessary. One of the women nodded to him while the other lifted a hand in silent greeting. Neither of them made a move to deny entrance or even really seemed to give them a second glance. Madara felt rather like a secret infiltrator as they continued on to streets positively teeming with people from all walks of life, civilians rubbing elbows with shinobi, craftsmen sharing space with the village elite. Not one of them suspected the two pretenders who had just walked in amongst their numbers.

It took a bit of dodging to get back out of the crowds but Tobirama managed to find an opening to pull him down an alleyway so they could talk about what their next move should be. If they had been using their brains they would have discussed this beforehand but both of them had been just a little too excited to finally find a place they might call home, to find answers to the growing list of questions they had about themselves. After a long discussions laying out all the possible paths for them to take they decided together that it would probably be best for them to seek out whoever was in charge of this place. The man they spoke to in that first town had referred to them as the beasts of Konoha, which implied a certain notoriety, and that in turn meant rank. Following that logic, if they were highly ranked in this place then they should be recognizable to the ones in charge.

As it turned out, they were right. Much more right than they could have imagined.

“Tobi! Mads! Thank the ancestors!” Watching the man behind the desk stand up from his seat was like watching a tree sprout in fast motion; it was almost a surprise that he didn’t hit the ceiling when he leapt over the massive desk to hurl himself across the room in their direction. Heading for the center of the town had been a good idea. “You guys were due back a full week ago, I was so worried that something had happened!”

“Funny you should say that,” Tobirama murmured, his eyes skittering to the side to meet with Madara's. When they looked back the tree of a man in front of them was clasping both hands around thick chunks of his long brown hair.

“Oh no! What happened? Is everything okay? You both look okay! But then if you’re not injured what took so long for you to get back? Please say neither of you is hiding any injuries again because I swear I will cry on you for at least an hour!” The serious tone of voice made it clear he was not telling a joke but Madara still squinted at him to make sure he was serious. What a ridiculous threat. Yet judging by the wetness already gathering in the man’s eyes he could guess that it was a threat he was indeed prepared to follow through on.

Resisting the urge to take a step away from the oddball before them, Madara cleared his throat to take attention away from his partner, sacrificing himself instead. “No physical injuries, just a bit of, ah, mental complications.”

“I’m afraid to ask what that means…you guys weren’t fighting again were you?”

“Nothing of the sort,” Tobirama assured the man. “We’re as happy as ever.”

For whatever reason that seemed to bring him up short. A look of suspicion narrowed his wide brown eyes, darting back and forth between them, until eventually Madara couldn’t take it anymore. Something about that face demanded honesty. There was a sort of naivety there one might expect on a child and it was only compounded by the way he was still clasping both hands under his chin.

“We sort of lost our memories. Both of us. Can’t remember shit. Well, we remembered our names and we know we’re dating but that’s about it. Someone had to point us back here; couldn’t even remember where we came from.”

Considering the shocking nature of his news he could totally understand the choked spluttering, though he rather wished the man would be a little less dramatic about it. A bit of surprise was fine – hell, a lot of surprise was fine – but he would have preferred not to have the man’s spittle rain over their faces as he tried to find the words to react to their situation. Madara was rather proud of himself for keeping his temper in check until finally the choking ended.

“Yes! Dating! And names! Very good, very – ah – we should get you both to a healer!” His eyes almost seemed ready to fall out of his head as he took them both by the arm and stepped towards the door only to stop dead. “Wait, I’m a healer. Let’s sit you both down!”

“Perhaps you could start with introducing yourself?” Tobirama suggested.

“Brother! I’m your- my name is Hashirama. You’re my little brother. And Madara is my best friend!”

“All in the family then, I suppose.”

For whatever reason Tobirama’s words set off another round of spluttering but at least this time there was no spray of saliva. “Oh. Ha ha. You could say that! Hey, until we get you both a little more caught up on whatever you’ve forgotten maybe you shouldn’t talk to anyone else? You never know, erm, what you might accidentally give away to the wrong person. Since you’re both so high profile and all.”

“What could we possibly give away when we can’t remember anything?” Madara scoffed but stopped when Tobirama laid a hand on his wrist.

“No, he’s got a point. There may be information we don’t even realize we remember and a breach of security like that could be detrimental. I say we humor him.” All it took was lifting one eyebrow and he had Madara wrapped around his finger yet again, trading smiles like it was their first date.

When they looked back at Hashirama to agree with his idea he was staring at them bug-eyed.

“Right. Glad that’s…cleared up. Sit down, please, sit down. I’ll look you both over as much as I can and you can ask your questions. We might have to get a Yamanaka in here to look deeper but maybe I can help on my own.” His ushering took on a little more of a frantic feeling. Maybe he didn’t like their PDA, which Madara supposed he could understand if Tobirama really was his brother. If he had siblings he probably wouldn’t want to watch them getting fresh with someone else right there in front of him.

“Some answers would be appreciated,” he admitted as he and Tobirama sank down on to a rather squashy yellow couch. “Right now all we know is our names and yours. Catch us up a little more, the most important things we should know, that sort of thing.”

“Oh there’s lots of things you should know…”

Indeed there was. Evidently Madara really did have a brother, the last surviving of four. The village of Konoha was only three years old and he had helped build it after Hashirama and he conceived of the idea as children. Children! From warring clans! Theirs must be a particularly strong friendship to survive so many years and the enmity of their people. He was grinning smugly as the man continued filling them in on any other pertinent information such as their living situation – apparently he and Tobirama were not living together yet, an actual travesty – and their actual positions within the governing body. After covering their family situations and the fact that both of them were also technically heads of their clans Hashirama sat back with a baffled expression on his face.

Madara decided he did not like that expression. The green glow of chakra – now that Hashirama had jogged his memory on what chakra was called – faded from his hands as they dropped to fiddle with each other restlessly in his lap.

“I don’t know what to say,” he admitted. “We might have to get a Yamanaka to check you guys out after all because I just can’t find anything wrong. None of your neural pathways are misfiring, there’s no injury in the area, so as far as I can see there’s no reason for either of you to have lost your memories.”

“How comforting,” Tobirama murmured.

“Yeah, just what I need. Another stranger poking around in my head.” Madara instantly felt a flash of guilt when Hashirama crumpled, though he refused to let it show on his face.

“But I’m not a stranger, not to either of you!”

Leaning a little closer to his partner, Madara grunted. “Best friends, yes, I heard you. I just don’t remember right now and it’s a really freaky experience. Imagine not even knowing you had siblings? Or that three of them were already in the ground? I’m sure that devastated me when it happened but right now? It means nothing to me. And it feels weird that it means nothing to me!”

Tobirama patted his knee consolingly and that helped a little. Apparently they both had brothers to mourn yet all Madara could think about was how odd it was for two families to have so many children yet not a daughter in sight. That probably wasn’t the part he was meant to focus on. Either his guilt must have shown on his face or Hashirama could sense that something had made him uncomfortable because the man was up in the next moment and gently encouraging them to stay here in this office while he sent for someone who would apparently be able to help them figure out what had happened to their memories. Madara couldn’t say he regretted seeing the man go but neither was he particularly relieved. Knowing intellectually that they were best friends did little to automatically recreate the bond he was sure they had forged over the years.

Simply put, Hashirama meant no more or less to him than any other average person off the street.

As soon as they were alone he turned to his partner and pulled Tobirama in for a slow kiss, drinking in the pleased hum that rumbled up in response. When they parted Tobirama rested their foreheads together with an adorably dopey look in his eyes.

“What was that for?”

“Needed to feel something a little more familiar,” Madara grunted, a little embarrassed.

“Happy to provide that any time you need it.” His partner leered and Madara shoved him lightly, though he did nothing to hide the smile parting his lips.

Since there wasn’t much else to keep them occupied while they waited for Hashirama to return Madara decided there was really no harm in getting a few more kisses to pass the time. It was an effective distraction, enough so that neither of them were the least bit bored and even managed to forget their surroundings for Hashirama's return to startle them. The feeling of his presence felt a lot like empty woods somehow so maybe it wasn’t that odd for neither of them to feel his approach but the woman he had brought with him had a very sharp sensation like needles waiting for the order to pierce.

“Very interesting,” was all she had to say. Instead of greeting either of them she moved to stand over the couch with both hands on her hips and a narrow-eyed look on her face which screamed ‘scientific observations’. Tobirama didn’t seem very put off by it but Madara couldn’t say he cared for being watched like that.

“Did we know you?” he asked, his tone as blunt as her gaze.

“Very well. We scream at each other in council meetings all the time. You hate my guts, Uchiha-san, but perhaps when you regain your memories this will stand as proof that I am not the heartless harpy you seem to think I am.”

“I think the words he usually uses are ‘heartless robot’,” Hashirama chipped in helpfully. Then he melted back with a sheepish expression as all three of them turned to raise an eyebrow in almost perfect sync. Nervous, apologetic, he waved them back to their conversation and indicated that he would be out of the way somewhere over by his desk.

After watching to make sure that he did intend to stay out of her way the woman turned back to them and introduced herself as the matriarch of the Yamanaka clan. She gave no name so Madara supposed she must expect a certain formality between them, which was fine. He didn’t need her to be super cuddly with him. All she needed to do was tell him what happened to his memories. To do that she had to get right up in his personal space, however, and while he didn’t appreciate that he did his best to stay still like she asked while two clammy hands took hold of his head and foreign chakra seeped in to his mind.

Whatever she got up to in there was not a pleasant experience for him. Nothing really solid came to him but a few disjointed images flashed behind his eyes and several rounds of colorful light before finally the presence in his head receded and he realized he had a death grip on Tobirama’s hand to keep him steady. He shook himself to clear away the sensation of having someone else inside a part of him that should always remain solitary, looking back to his partner to find a grimly resigned expression looking back. No words were needed for Tobirama to understand that his turn would not be fun but neither did they need to speak for Madara to nod that he would be here as Tobirama had been for him. They were a team.

From the tight grip that took his hand he gathered that his guesses were right and the experience of whatever this woman was doing was no more pleasant for Tobirama than it had been for him. His only comfort was that she didn’t look particularly worried or upset when she finally pulled away and his partner was free to shake himself clear of her the same way he had, the same vague irritation furrowing between those pale white brows.

“I have good news and medium news.”

“Oh thank goodness, I was hoping there would be no bad news.” Hashirama wiped his brow as if he had actually been sweating with stress, oblivious to the judgmental eye of the Yamanaka woman.

“Yes, most people hope for that,” she said. “The good news is that this state is not permanent and I was able to find the cause.”

Tobirama sat forward intently. “But not remove it?”

“No and that would be the medium news. There is a fine net of chakra layered over the same portion of both your brains and its purpose seems to be inhibiting long term recall. Removing it would be a delicate process and we would run the risk of damaging the area. However, given enough time the chakra should deteriorate and be dissolved by your own so it’s simply a matter of waiting and your memories will be returned to you. Days or weeks or even months, I cannot say.”

“I think I am on Hashirama's side in this,” Tobirama mused. “At least none of that was truly bad news.”

“Wow.” Hashirama let out a low whistle.

“What?”

“You’re _never_ on my side!”

Madara burst out laughing. Suddenly it felt a lot more natural to see the two of them as brothers. That certainly sounded like something an older brother would say. He hoped he had the same kind of relationship with his own insofar unknown sibling.

The two of them began to bicker and Madara settled himself against the back of the couch to listen with a smile hovering around the edges of his lips. He may not have known to come here until the way was pointed out for him but he was glad that he had made it; this place _felt_ like home. It was hard to put his finger on why but he wasn’t all that concerned with questioning his own feelings or looking at them too deeply. Just having the emotions was enough, they didn’t need explanations.

Knowing that his memories would eventually come back on their own was enough too, surprisingly. As long as he had Tobirama with him they could ride this wave together until they reached the shore and all was well again. Obviously one of them would be staying at the others house until they could remember whose they actually spent more time at, Madara wasn’t really picky where since neither house held any particular meaning for him at the moment, but if he had his way Tobirama would spend as little time out of his sight as possible for the next while. That Yamanaka woman hadn’t been very specific on how long this unsettling emptiness in his mind would last.

But, he reminded himself with calming certainty, this too would end. As all things must.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year to everyone! May this chapter update soothe you as you lie in bed nursing various states of hangover. Purge the ghosts of 2019, my loves, and welcome a shiny new 2020!

Madara's place was bigger but Tobirama’s home turned out to be the more interesting of the two, filled with endless wonders for them both to explore, and so it was there that they settled after fetching several changes of clothing from the house Madara supposedly shared with his younger brother. Perhaps that was why he hadn’t asked Tobirama to move in with him yet. No one wanted to move in with a man whose sibling still couldn’t cut the apron strings. He wasn’t all that upset about it at the moment, though, since it gained him permanent entry in to this incredible house with bookshelves stuffed full of absurd amounts of knowledge and objects on every surface that never seemed to do what he thought they would. Tobirama could usually figure them out fairly quickly.

The first few days after they returned to the village were fairly quiet, mostly left alone to settle in and familiarize themselves with their immediate surroundings. Other than a visit or two from Hashirama the only other face they saw was Izuna’s and Madara had to admit that he was having a bit of a hard time figuring his brother out. While the man seemed to carry a great deal of love for him he also didn’t seem to approve of the relationship between him and Tobirama. Either that was a larger wedge between them than he could be expected to know about right then or it would become one soon.

Nearly a week after they returned was really the first time either of them thought to explore outside of the home they had settled in. They considered asking Hashirama to act as a guide but eventually chose to go alone. He was friendly and they liked him but they enjoyed their own company better and exploring sounded more fun anyway than being led around by the nose while having their faces shoved in all the memories they should but didn’t have. Of course, since they had no idea where anything was they spent a lot of time turning wrong ways only to end up in yet another residential neighborhood because Tobirama’s sensing couldn’t differentiate the density of populated areas versus the market district within such a confined space, but neither of them were very bothered. They were still together and happy to be so whether they were cozied up at home or getting lost on the streets of their own village.

“Alright, your best guess and this time you’re not allowed to use your sensing.” Madara squeezed the hand inside his own and turned his head to memorize the shape of Tobirama’s thoughtful expression.

“I would say…that around this corner we will find a bakery.”

“Really? I was going to say we’ll find a park. There’s got to be a hundred little parks or rest areas in this place, what do you think that’s about?”

“Not a clue.” Tobirama raised his eyes to admire the cultivated tree giving them shade as they passed under it. “Someone here has an obsession with flora, that much is clear.”

Madara wondered for a moment if it could have been one of them but discarded the idea quickly. Neither of them had felt particularly drawn to the endless greenery they passed. Surely such a deep passion would have come through even without a need for their memories. He supposed the plethora of greenery could also be a failure of repetitive design elements since they really had been walking through mostly residential streets and he’d noticed the places where people made their homes seemed to be better presented than the streets with businesses on them.

They shared a glance as they turned the next corner, a challenge passing between them, but when they looked ahead Madara was playfully dismayed to see a bakery only two buildings down from where they stood. A groan slipped out and he could practically feel the smugness rolling off his partner beside him.

“How did you know?” he demanded.

“Could you not smell it? I could smell them baking something with blueberries from two streets over. Do we have any money?”

His face lit up so much Madara didn’t have to heart to suggest that maybe they should save their money since he wasn’t sure when they would have a chance to earn more. Instead he gestured towards the bakery with one hand and happily watched Tobirama peruse every item that contained even a hint of blueberries. Now there was a clear preference he didn’t need the past to tell him about. By the time they left Madara's wallet was significantly lighter and one of the storage seals Tobirama had taken to carrying around with him was bursting with delicious baked treats.

“Alright since I guessed right I get to pick which way we go next.” Tobirama looked up and down the street a couple times before pointing with the little tart in his free hand. “How about through that way? It looks like an alley. There’s always interesting things to be found through little alleys like that.”

“You know that from _experience_?” Madara scoffed.

“I…shut up and follow me.”

Both of them trying to scowl instead of laugh, they wove their way through the foot traffic and slipped in to the small corridor of brick and weeds. It was starting to feel like a real adventure with secret treasures to discover but alas they were not destined to find any new secrets today. Just as they spilled out the other end in to a new area of the market district they came face to face with Hashirama, who only took the space of a single heartbeat to stare at them with surprise. The next moment he was sweeping them both together in an unwarranted group hug.

“Well look at the two of you, finally poking your heads out of the nest!”

“Please never refer to our home like that again,” Tobirama asked him with a wrinkled nose.

“Oh lighten up! This is good, getting out in to the rest of the world. Maybe something out here will spark a memory!” Hashirama beamed at them hopefully and as much as Madara hated to disappoint that expression he had to agree with his partner’s light scoff.

“I don’t think that’s how this works,” he pointed out. “The lady said it was just supposed to fade with time, right?”

As he should have expected, Hashirama drooped immediately. He hadn’t known the man for very long – that he knew of anyway – but it had only taken one visit for them to figure out the patterns of this overzealous man’s behavior. He emoted very loudly for someone who was supposed to be in charge of this entire village of serious killer shinobi. Despite the dramatics of his first reaction it only took a minute or so for his spine to straighten once again with a thoughtful expression that looked somehow out of place on his features.

“You look really comfortable holding hands with each other,” he noted. Madara and Tobirama shared a look.

“I should hope we would be,” Madara drawled. What an odd thing for someone to point out. Even more odd was the way Hashirama let out a bark of very awkward laughter and rubbed at the back of his head.

“Of course, of course. Because you’re dating. Yes. Anyway, where are you guys off to?”

Tobirama answered him with the driest tone in his repertoire. “How would we know?”

“Right, clearly you need a guide!”

“We were actually quite happy on our own.”

“Nonsense! I know all the best places! That you both like. Obviously. Because–”

“I swear if you say ‘because we’re dating’ I will smack you,” Madara cut him off. “Have you always been our biggest cheerleader? Because it’s honestly a little creepy how much you seem to like our relationship.”

Hashirama released another booming laugh. “I’m just happy for my little brother and my best friend! You’re so happy together!”

Although ignoring him seemed like it was probably the best way to deal with whatever madness had taken hold of him it wasn’t really effective for very long. Hashirama pouted when they walked away from him but he caught up fairly easily and dogged them along their way for the rest of the hour they spent outside before giving up and turning for home. When he happily exclaimed his joy for them learning their way around a little Tobirama seemed only too happy to burst his bubble by explaining that he had in truth found the way back by memorizing their neighbor’s chakra and following that.

Much as he hated to admit it, in the end Madara was actually kind of glad to have him along in a weird way. He did enjoy the man’s company, after all, but what really made him invaluable were the little tidbits of information peppered in to his speech that he clearly didn’t think much of saying. They meant the world to Madara. Small little discoveries about his partner such as the fact that he really had always enjoyed blueberries like the tart he was still nibbling on or that his affinity was for water. That at least explained why Tobirama insisted on taking at least an hour to soak in the tub every night. Madara couldn’t say he had many complaints about the habit, not when he was so often invited to join, but it was nice to have an explanation.

Home was a wonderful sight, although if he was hoping they could ditch Hashirama once they got there he was sorely disappointed. The man invited himself in like he belonged there. Madara wondered if they usually let him in their homes with so little fight but there was really no way to ask without potentially hurting his feelings and dealing with the guilt of making the man cry again. So instead he sank down on to the opposite couch from where Hashirama had wrapped himself up like a serpent around Tobirama. Dragging the closest book in to his lap to pretend he was busy seemed a lot safer than getting involved in whatever that was.

As it turned out his instincts were good and the book he grabbed was an interesting one even if it was quite a bit advanced past the point where he understood everything it was talking about. He wasn’t sure about a lot of things these days but one thing he’d discovered was that sealing was not an area he had ever been an expert in. That didn’t stop him from finding the subject fascinating though. It was a little easier to tune out the conversation across from him with his head full of confusing yet terrifically interesting passages about vertices and layers and catalysts, things he barely even half understood yet couldn’t stop reading about. He got so deep in to the text that when he spoke up suddenly he didn’t realize he was interrupting Hashirama in the middle of a sentence until his own was already halfway done.

“Did you know that laying a seal on a ley line doubles its power?” His eyes never lifted from the words as he spoke but he looked up immediately at the sound of Tobirama’s scoff.

“Hogwash,” Tobirama shot back automatically. “There’s absolutely no proof that ley lines even exist in a form that would affect such things, let alone that they enhance the abilities of chakra sealing techniques.”

As soon as his jaw snapped shut after speaking his face scrunched up in confusion, though what he would have to be confused about Madara didn’t know. His partner squinted at the book in his hands but was quickly distracted when Hashirama dodged off on a rant about how smart his little brother was and how proud that made him. Madara tuned them out again.

Only when they finally managed to con Hashirama in to leaving by asking him if his wife wasn’t expecting him back for dinner did he tune back in and question Tobirama on the strange expression he’d made. A few opinions on sealing shouldn’t have made him look so confused, especially not when he sounded so confident in those opinions. His partner immediately assumed a sour look as though offended by the memory and crossed his arms. Madara forced himself to wait patiently for an answer he knew would come only after Tobirama had finished ordering his thoughts enough to speak them out loud.

“I just didn’t know where the words came from,” he explained at last. “Which confused me for a bit until I went digging around in my head for why I said it and couldn’t come up with anything, then I was just really annoyed that I couldn’t see where my own thoughts were coming from.”

“Ah, isn’t that just a part of this whole craft disease?”

“Craft disease?” Tobirama paused to give him a look of utter bafflement and Madara grinned.

“You know. CRAFT. Can’t Remember A Fucking Thing.”

Tobirama pinched his lips together. Tightened his jaw. Clenched both fists and turned his head away. Madara lifted his eyebrows and waited, vindicated when he finally saw the telltale shaking of his partner’s shoulders. It might have been a really terrible joke but Tobirama couldn’t say anything when he was the one laughing at it. Clearly they shared the same bad sense of humor.

“Awful,” came the answer finally. “Truly the most awful attempt at a joke I’ve ever heard in my life.”

“You can’t say that if you’re not sure.”

“Oh shut up.”

Madara smirked and reached out until Tobirama slid across the room in to his arms with an ostentatious rolling of his eyes. “There’s probably tons of information in the back of our heads so ingrained that we can’t help remembering it even if we can’t _really_ remember it or why we know it. I would say don’t worry about letting a few random things slip out as long as they don’t sound like state secrets or anything.”

“I hate to admit that you’re right under any circumstances but I suppose you have me cornered in this.” Much as he tried to hide it Tobirama didn’t actually look all that upset. He had an explanation for why he couldn’t figure out how he knew something and he was content with that.

The rest of their evening was relatively calm. For them, at least. Without Hashirama there to tut at them about the lack of safety precautions they dug out some handwritten notebooks from the living room and tried to recreate some of the experiments within on the kitchen table. A few things got set on fire, there was at least one incident that required a bit of chakra to suppress the reaction, and twice Madara feared for the structural integrity of the kitchen sink but all in all it was a fun end to their day and they both came away feeling like they’d learned a lot. Obviously all of these experiments were things they had already learned before since the notebooks were each filled with Tobirama’s distinctive neat handwriting but it was fun all the same.

Curling up in bed together, they both fell asleep with smiles on their faces, perfectly content to wait for their minds to catch up with the rest of the world. Everyone they had met so far seemed really stressed all the time so they would probably be grateful for this vacation when all was said and done.

That belief was only solidified the next morning when Madara was dragged out of bed by the sound of someone knocking on the door only to find Izuna there with a vaguely terrified look on his face as though the house itself might eat him when he was invited in. He could be forgiven that. Madara knew that he and his partner weren’t living together prior to the incident so Izuna probably hadn’t been here much before. But he really could have done without the way the man who was supposed to be his brother went rigid with tension every time Tobirama walked through or past the living room where they sat drinking tea. Surely they had to be used to each other by now? They seemed perfectly fine with each other in conversation so Madara had no idea what the man’s problem was now.

He knew what his own problem was, of course. As nice as it was to be intellectually aware that this was his brother that did nothing to form an automatic bond between them. For all Madara knew his face was as strange as every other that passed him on the street. They got along fairly well, there was no denying that, and Izuna did everything he could to encourage the kind of teasing, roughhousing rapport that would fit well in to any sibling dynamic. It was just weird. Madara wished he could remember that dynamic for himself rather than having it forced upon him.

“Of course,” Izuna was saying, comfortable now that Tobirama’s chakra had settled down in another room, “Hikaku couldn’t have known that we were up there. You were teaching me how to suppress my chakra and you know how I’ve always been a quick learner. But the sound of his scream, oh man, I’ve never heard anything so funny in my life!”

“Who is Hikaku?” he asked finally now that the story was over. A small flash of guilt was there and gone again on Izuna’s face before he waved a hand through the air casually.

“Just a distant cousin. You like him but you guys have never been as close as me and him are.”

Madara nodded. It was good to know there wasn’t another person out there pining to have him back to normal the way Hashirama did sometimes when he thought they weren’t paying attention to him. Until now it hadn’t occurred to him to wonder if he had distant family members to watch out for like cousins.

“So you scared him?” he prompted for Izuna to go on with the story.

“Yeah! It was amazing! He does the best stupid faces when you scare him!” With a guttural shout that Madara guessed was supposed to be an imitation of this Hikaku’s fright Izuna began waving his arms around somewhat like a squid that may have consumed too much caffeine. It was already funny even before he leaned deeper in to the couch so he could add his feet in to the bit.

As he watched, the strangest thing happened. Madara was already grinning, a little reserved still because he couldn’t bring himself to be entirely comfortable just yet with so many expectations between them, but for a moment as he watched it was almost as though he could suddenly see a much younger boy with the same hair and the same nose. He watched the boy howling with laughter and kick his feet in the air, both arms waving about – like squid on too much caffeine. The image was only there in his mind for a moment and then it faded but even as he shook it away Madara was left with a feeling of much deeper content than before. When Izuna’s impression ended and he went still to look up with a hopeful smile Madara had a much more genuine expression to gift him in return.

“Do that again,” he chuckled. Thrilled, Izuna did.

Madara laughed at the impression just as he had the first time but now the laughter came more easily, booming out of his chest in a way it hadn’t before almost as though a blockage had been removed. When they both righted themselves again he was able to sit back with his limbs loose and his entire being suffused with a great sense of ease. Whatever that flash had been was already half forgotten but the effect it left behind remained. All the way through their conversations and until Izuna was standing up to leave Madara couldn’t quite put his finger on why but he felt much more comfortable, much more ready to accept that this was his brother here before him, a man he should have no difficulty in accepting a hug from.

When Izuna jerked away with an apologetic expression he nearly laughed again.

“Sorry, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“You didn’t,” he admitted, covering his own surprise. “Brothers hug, right?”

Izuna’s smile was like the sun coming over the horizon. “Yeah. Brothers hug. Unless one of those brothers is a grumpy sourpuss like you!”

The sound of his cackle was so bright and happy that Madara didn’t quite have it in him to threaten a good dunking in the closest pond to remind this young man to respect his elders. He settled for a half-hearted swipe that only managed to catch the trailing edge of a dark ponytail. Izuna bobbed up a couple feet away with a shit eating grin that, for some reason, seemed to suit his features very well. Like he wore it quite often.

“Listen, I’m not around to watch your back all the time if you don’t come home so don’t go getting in to trouble without me here, alright?” He took another step towards the door but his eyes drifted towards the hall where Tobirama had wandered away to give them time together. Madara lifted one eyebrow at him.

“I am home,” he declared.

“Right. For now.”

An exasperated puff of air ruffled the bangs constantly hanging over his face. “I know that Tobirama and I weren’t living together before this all happened and you probably expect me to come to live with you again when everything comes back to us but...I’m happy here. There’s no reason to think we won’t be happy once we remember things.”

“No reason at all?” Izuna asked him in a low voice. It was easy to tell that he was supposed to read some sort of implication in those words but Madara was sick of not being able to read between the lines.

“That’s right,” he agreed firmly. “No reason. We’re happy and we will stay happy.”

“Okay, you said it. If you’re happy then I’ll let you be. Just remember that you were the one who asked me to leave you where you are, alright? And if you ever want me, well, you know where I’ll be. You’re always welcome to come home.”

“I already told you. I _am_ home.”

Holding up both hands in surrender, Izuna nodded and turned to slide his sandals on. With a jaunty little wave he was out the door leaving Madara standing in doorway of the living room turning those words over and over in his mind suspiciously. That was hardly the first time someone had spoken to him like he was missing some kind of important detail and, while it wasn’t exactly a surprise that he was still missing it, he did kind of wish they would all quit with the vague nonsense. Either they needed to come out and say what they wanted or they needed to wait until he could actually pick up on these mysterious clues. Or just shut up. That was always an option too.

After standing around for almost a full five minutes without doing anything but stare blankly in to space Madara snapped back in to himself and looked around, trying to decide how he wanted to spend the rest of his morning. There was so much of the day left ahead of him; he hadn’t even had lunch yet! Perhaps he should find some food to throw together. Cooking would at least keep his hands busy.

Before that he thought it would only be polite if he asked Tobirama for suggestions of what to eat. Most couples probably didn’t flirt with each other by cooking preferred foods but he did like to think they weren’t like other couples anyway. He liked to think they were unique. Better than the rest. In all things he liked to think that his memories would return to reveal that he was better than the rest. Hashirama and Izuna had both already confirmed that he had an ego possibly larger than it needed to be but Madara preferred to think he was just very proud of his own skillset.

He found Tobirama in the study with several sheets of paper spread around him and no less than three open books. One hand was out keeping place in a book while the other frantically scribbled across one of the pages not yet entirely filled up with neatly organized notes. Such an adorable egghead.

“Busy?” Madara called. Then he waited patiently because Tobirama seemed to have a habit of finishing whatever he was doing before responding to an interruption, something he had learned the day they figured out how to open storage scrolls and revealed a treasure trove of books. Eventually his partner finished writing to look up at him with a vaguely distracted face.

“Sorry, what?”

“Too busy to give suggestions for lunch?”

“Mn. Fish.”

Rolling his eyes to hide a smile, Madara stepped a little farther in to the room. “We had fish the last two days in a row, your body needs other vitamins and stuff too.”

“But…fish?”

“Get your head out of whatever you’ve lost it in and give me a different suggestion.” Madara shook his head fondly even as he pushed his partner’s chair back far enough that he could slip in to the man’s lap.

Tobirama hummed in a low rumble and instead of answering he wrapped both arms around the body in his lap, curling forward to nuzzle behind one of Madara's ears until he squirmed. “Other foods aren’t nearly as satisfying but if you absolutely insist then I suppose we won’t have fish again. Which means chirashizushi is out then.”

“Honestly, if I left you alone you would probably never eat red meat.”

“Probably not.”

“One of these days I’m going to toss you back in the ocean where you came from,” Madara threatened, only a little bit serious. The idea of an ocean vacation sounded nice, actually, though he wasn’t sure he could convince Tobirama to come lounge on the beach with all that pale white skin so ready to burn.

Blatantly ignoring the threat against his person, Tobirama dipped his head for a few more teasing nuzzles. “I believe we have everything to throw together a pot of soba noodles.”

“Then soba it is. Or it will be once you let me go.”

“I think I rather enjoy having you here. Perhaps I’ve thought of something else I would rather eat for lunch.” Tobirama leered up at him through white lashes and Madara looked away to hide the flush on his cheeks. He wondered, not for the first time, whether his partner had always been this filthy and how far they had explored each other’s bodies before. While they certainly hadn’t been shy with each other as they waited for their memories to return they hadn’t exactly kept their hands to themselves either. Sleeping in bed next to someone as attractive to Tobirama would already be a temptation but to know that he was willing? Madara was sure he’d never claimed to be a saint.

Right now, however, he was hungry so food was a little higher on his list of priorities than getting their pants off. Extracting himself from Tobirama’s clutches took a bit of stealth, a lot of wriggling, and a promise they could revisit whatever dirty thoughts were hovering around in that genius head after lunch. Madara tried not to be too obvious about adjusting himself as he fled to the kitchen, scowling to hear light footsteps following after him.

He made sure to keep one eye out for the figure slinking along at his heels while he began pulling out dishes and ingredients to start cooking. Tobirama could pull the innocent and disinterested act all he wanted. Madara wasn’t fooled for one moment. He knew damn well that if his partner didn't want something he would have just stayed in the study where he’d already been busy.

“Don’t go getting any ideas in your head,” he warning. “Cooking lunch is not an invitation to bend me over the kitchen counter.”

“Such intentions never crossed my mind. I do like your train of thought though. Shall we discuss?”

“Oh shut up!” A flush crept up the back of his neck and he realized that was probably exactly the reaction Tobirama was hoping for. The man did love to tease him and he knew he usually made it all too easy. Just because he didn’t know how to deal with his emotions that didn’t mean he was any good at hiding them.

Graciously subsiding, Tobirama still didn’t move any farther away than a couple of feet down where he turned to lean back against the countertop and fold both arms in to his sleeves, watching with curious eyes. Madara chose not to ask what he was watching for. The only answer he was likely to get would be some sort of embarrassing observation about how elegant his hands were or something. He needed a distraction.

“Can I ask you something about you and your brother?”

“About Hashirama?”

“No I mean about the relationship between you two.”

Tobirama cocked his head to one side. “Is it something I’ll be able to answer?”

“I hope so. Do you ever feel…like he’s expecting too much of you? Like he’s expecting you to _be you_ but you don’t really know who you are right now so you’re not sure what he wants?” As he spoke he kept his eyes on the ingredients for the sauce he was making first.

“That is an interesting question. Now that I think about it I believe I can understand what you mean.”

“But do you ever feel like that?”

A moment of silence passed in which he assumed the other to be giving his question some thought. Madara stirred his sauce and exercised what patience he could muster.

“Perhaps the first time or two it was a little awkward but Hashirama has been very understanding. If I ask him to explain something he seems to have taken for granted that I’ll already know he always hurries to explain. And it _is_ understandable that there would be certain things he simply doesn’t think to explain, things so natural as a part of everyday life that they become thoughtless.” Tobirama untucked his arms to reach out and pull the closest thing towards himself so he could fiddle with it, an unused spatula. “Is that the sort of thing you mean?”

“Um, not really. But close. Doesn’t matter I guess since I was also going to ask when that feeling went away for you.”

From the corner of his eyes Madara watched the spatula turning over and over, suspicious but unwilling to make any accusations. Tobirama tapped it against his chin as though he were on the verge of some thought he couldn’t quite grasp.

“Are you having trouble connecting with Izuna?” he asked.

“Not anymore,” Madara admitted wryly. “I was for a little bit. Then I guess something just…clicked for me this afternoon. It was so odd. One second I’m holding myself back still and the next it was just all so natural like I’d watched him laughing a thousand times.”

“Do you think you’re beginning to remember a bit?”

“Remember?” Pausing with his fingers around the packet of premade soba noodles, Madara tried to bring back whatever that flash of something had been. A memory? A vision? A construction of his own imagination? Eventually he shook his head. “I doubt it. That Yamanaka lady didn’t seem too certain it would be a very fast process.”

Even without looking directly at the man he could feel Tobirama watching him, probably to make sure he wasn’t hiding anything. His partner was a giant worrywart and Madara could admit he probably sounded just a little sad when talking about Izuna. For a few seconds he contemplated saying something to make it clear that he was perfectly fine, not worried, and definitely not in need of cheering up or something mushy like that. There was really no cause for alarm.

Then he yelped loud enough for the sound to echo throughout the entire house as the flat end of the spatula he’d stupidly forgot about impacted his ass with a resounding smack. Now there was cause for alarm. Because he was going to _kill_ Tobirama for that.


	3. Chapter 3

No matter how attached he was to the man he lived with there was only so long Madara could stay shut away in the same house before cabin fever struck. The small tastes of freedom he got from their explorations of the marketplace had him craving more before long so when Hashirama offered to show him around the administration tower where he supposedly worked it was an easy decision to go. Tobirama waved them off with a distracted face that Madara knew meant that he would probably be coming back to find something in their house on fire again but, since that was just part of the man’s charm by this point, he left without a fuss.

What Hashirama called the administration tower turned out to be the same massive building in the center of the village where they had met him their first day back here. It was good luck that the weather today was so nice since Madara insisted on hovering outside for several minutes just to take in the sight of such a large structure.

“You said only a few years ago none of this existed?”

“Nope! Nothing! The whole village used to be forested land!”

“Huh.” Madara tilted his head back to look up at the top floor. “And we were really at war before that happened?”

At the reminder Hashirama wilted ever so slightly. “Yes, unfortunately. It took many years even after our fathers’ deaths for us both to convince our people to lay down their weapons. After so many generations fighting each other there were…a lot of people not ready to stop.”

“I guess I can understand where they would be coming from.” Madara brought his head back down to find Hashirama blinking at him rapidly, both eyes wide and staring.

“You can? But I thought you wanted the fighting to stop too?”

“How would I know what I wanted then?”

“Oh right…”

“Just show me the inside.”

Hashirama grinned quickly, all signs of bewilderment fading away, and he leapt to open the door for both of them. If anything Madara had expected his only familiarity with this place to be the one memory he had of it from a few weeks before. He was surprised when stepping in to the front hallway came with the same comfortable sort of feeling as he got when he stepped inside the home he’d made with Tobirama. Whether his head remembered or not his heart knew this was a place where he belonged. And that was nice, he supposed. It would be nicer if the rest of him could join the party.

Despite apparently being only a few years old the wooden floors in the hallways looked well tread with the boards in the center already turning a different color from so many feet travelling back and forth every day. Madara swallowed the irrational urge to bend down and run his fingers across the smooth wood, following his friend in to the first room the man wanted to show him. There wasn’t even anyone else around but if someone stepped in to the hallway to see him fondling the ground he had no idea what kind of reputation he might be ruining.

The room they went in to had a lot of charts and maps pinned up on the walls as well as several large tables filling the center. Even with no one inside at the moment it still managed to look like a busy room. Madara glanced around to take everything in and gravitated to the most natural point that called for him, the small podium set up at one end. He actually felt rather important standing there even with the casual stance he took leaning his weight on both arms and clasped his hands together loosely.

“So–” he started to say only for Hashirama to interrupt him.

“Oh you _do_ remember!”

“Eh?”

“You…don’t remember?”

His eyes flicked around the room, unsure what he was looking for. “No? What am I supposed to be remembering?”

“Aw I thought that maybe- oh well. You always stand there when you’re in this room. This is the main briefing room we use to send teams out on particularly dangerous or sensitive missions rather than in the public Mission Room down the hall. Actually you and Tobi both spend a lot of time in here, you’re kind of…really competitive for handing out missions.”

“Competitive?” Madara smirking, picturing it. “A little competition can be healthy. So we’re both very involved in that sort of thing?”

“Um, I would say it’s more because you guys have such different views on how a lot of things should be done, so…” The way Hashirama drifted off felt a little suspicious. It felt like one of those moments when Madara knew he should have been able to read deeper in to the words, which was kind of annoying.

With a roll of his eyes he changed the subject. “What else do I do here? Sounds like I’m a paper pusher; that doesn’t seem like something I would ever enjoy.”

As easily as that Hashirama was all too happy to change subjects, darting around the room to show him a few things and then leading him away up the stairs to show him the offices where he apparently spent most of his time. The paperwork he feared seemed to be a large part of his life but all the things Hashirama described in between, the police force and the dangerous missions and acting as a prominent member on the council of advisors, those sounded just exciting enough to make up for it. His life wasn’t completely boring it seemed. At least not enough to make him dread going back to it.

He at least had some nice digs to work in. Madara paused just inside the door of his office and looked around, arms crossed over his chest and chin nodding with approval. It was nice in here. The window was quite large and with the curtains opened wide it brought golden sunlight spilling in to the room, pooling over the neatly organized filing cabinets, illuminating the over-burdened yet orderly desk. And that was definitely the desk of someone important. Just the right size to garner respect while also remaining humble, a beautiful rich dark color with a simple yet tasteful trim and the crest of the Uchiha clan carved in to the side facing whoever should enter the room. It seemed he was a prideful man; no surprise there.

“Now that’s a desk I could sit behind,” he murmured under his breath. Then since there was nothing stopping him he did so, marching over and plopping his weight down in the sturdy matching chair, almost startling to discover a cushion there to make the seat more comfortable. Pride wasn’t worth the hemorrhoids apparently.

“You look just like yourself,” Hashirama complimented him. “Well, not that you don’t always look like yourself. You always _look_ the same. I just mean you look…I really hope you know what I mean because I can’t figure out how to say it.”

“I think I know.” He very much didn’t but if agreeing would get the man to shut up then he’d rather not listen to the blathering.

Smiling at him in thanks, Hashirama nodded to the desk with a low chuckle. “Now if only we could find what we need in there. When you left you sealed up your desk like always but we didn’t expect you to be away from duty for so long and we can’t find half the stuff you were working on!”

Madara acted without thinking. As though the movement were entirely natural he reached down and pulled open the bottom drawer on his right side, feeling the seals release at the touch of his specific chakra signature but thinking nothing of it, and felt around until he had a grip on all three of the scrolls he found inside. When he pulled them up he could see they were all storage scrolls probably containing several documents each and by the look on Hashirama's face he already knew the answer to the question as he asked it.

“Were you looking for these?”

“You knew exactly where they were!” Hashirama clapped both hands together with joy but Madara was quick to shoot him down for what must be the eighth time in only a couple hours together.

“That seemed like the most logical place for me to put them,” he said, almost gleeful to see the other man deflate.

As he always did, Hashirama took a few moments to curl in to himself until one could almost see the black clouds of sadness gathering over his head. Madara used that time to allow himself a tiny secret smile for what his friend didn’t know. It might have only come to him after his arm was already in motion but he did recall where he put those documents, remembered the act of slipping them in to that drawer and sealing them away. Just like the moment with Izuna it was a flash, a vision there and gone, but this time he was certain of what it had been and this time he remembered it.

He _remembered_.

One would think the first thing he might do now that he was sure of what was happening would be to tell someone. To celebrate with Hashirama or at least run home to inform Tobirama. He did neither of those things. After what happened with Izuna he’d been thinking a lot lately about how it would feel to start getting his memories back and how he would react but more importantly he’d been thinking about all the strange little reactions people kept having to his relationship with Tobirama. How would it feel to finally realize whatever they were waiting for him to realize? Call him a secret softy but he really wanted to be able to say that they two of them had fallen in love with each other twice.

So far Tobirama had shown no signs of remembering at all, which was great for the plan Madara had cobbled together in his head just that morning. If he was the first to get a few things back then hopefully one of those things could be the story of how the two of them got together. He wanted to remember their first date and recreate it, take Tobirama out on the same adventure to see what would happen, to know how different things would go with a little foreknowledge of where they would end up. An experiment of his own. His partner would certainly approve of it from that angle.

While Hashirama dashed off to quickly give the files he’d found to the people who had been waiting for them Madara leaned back and kicked both feet up on to what little space was available on his desk. The position felt suspiciously comfortable until he noticed there was just enough clear space at just the right angle to allow him to do so, a clue compounded by the misty eyes Hashirama hit him with after walking through the door again, so to throw the man off Madara asked a few questions about his work. They stayed in his office for as long as they could until someone wandered in looking for the Hokage to sign something and then Hashirama asked with an apologetic look if he wouldn’t mind spending a little time on the top floor.

Upstairs was even cushier than his own office, though he could understand the necessity of that. The biggest cheese should always have the flashiest stuff so no one ever forget that he was in charge. Madara gravitated towards the same couch he’d sat on the last time he was in here and draped himself across the length of it without giving too much thought towards decorum. If Hashirama could do away with formality then so could he. While he waited he let his eyes roam over the contents of the room with a mildly curious face that hopefully disguised the focused intent underneath. His own office had sparked a memory. If he apparently spent so much time up here with his ‘best friend in the whole wide world’ – Hashirama's words, clearly – then maybe there was something here that could spark another no matter that he’d told the man that wasn’t how it worked.

Nothing about the desk looked very interesting, too similar to the pile of untouched drudgery that had been on his own even if Hashirama's set up was that much fancier. Not to mention it was growing right out of the floor for some reason. Other than looking like a comfortable escape route the window didn’t call to him very much. Neither did the potted plants dotting every single available inch of free space all around the room. What did call to him was the massive bookshelf on the far side of the room from the desk as though when Hashirama decorated he intentionally put as much space between him and all that reading material as possible.

Either that or Tobirama was doing what he could to protect the precious literature from a watery death at the hands of such a frequent crier.

Tilting his head to one side, Madara stretched himself out a little more and considered the bookcase. Why would that particular area of the office call to him? A part of him really wanted there to be some kind of secret room behind it that only he and a select few people might know about. Just because it was unlikely didn’t mean it was necessarily untrue. He could dream!

A quick check told him Hashirama was still engaged with whatever paperwork he’d dragged them both here to sort out so, using much more stealth than necessary, Madara crept off the couch and moved gradually across the wooden floors. Nothing really stood out as a possible trigger for any secret rooms but he did still keep the option in the back of his head as he drew close enough to run his fingers over the scrolls and spines. Something here felt familiar. He just had to figure out what. It wasn’t the wooden figurines with their living floral crowns or the tightly packed scrolls on the bottom shelves or even the dyed leather covers so cool and smooth against his fingers. But maybe…

Madara couldn’t say what made him look but the moment his eyes flicked up he knew. He couldn’t see it from here but he knew there would be something hiding just out of sight on top of the bookcase. Peeking back to make sure he was still unobserved, he lifted up on to his toes and stretched to curl his fingers over the edge, scrunching his nose as the first thing he encountered was a giant dust bunny. A few quick pats around and then he was biting his lip to stifle a cry of triumph.

The book he pulled down was slim and well read, not much taller than his palm was long. On the cover a young man stood tall with his shoulders thrown back and his eyes gazing in to the middle distance. It wasn’t the sort of thing one might expect to find in a work environment but all it took was one glance for Madara to grin, familiar now with the sensation of an old memory flickering up in to the forefront of his mind.

_Familiar chakra getting closer, panic in his veins, nowhere to go. Tobirama couldn’t see him with this. He would never live it down! Where to hide it? There was nowhere here that Tobirama wouldn’t stick his nose in to, the man knew this office better than its own occupant. Where to hide!?_

Madara turned the book over to look at the back, reading through the summary and a little embarrassed to admit that it still sounded like a thrilling read no matter how cheesy the plotline promised to be. This was definitely the sort of book he would be embarrassed to get caught reading by someone he wasn’t close to but he couldn’t imagine hiding himself like that from his own partner. The memory must have been one from before they started dating. Or possibly right at the beginning of their relationship when he would have been trying to give the best impression of himself and hide away all the parts he saw as embarrassing or undesirable. How cute.

That was the nice part about having no knowledge of the world around him other than their relationship, he supposed. If he knew nothing else Madara at least knew that he and Tobirama cared about each other so there was no need to worry himself over whether the other man would accept any part of him. Clearly he already had.

“What have you got there?” Hashirama's voice from right over his shoulder gave him such a fright that his first reaction was to toss the book away as hard as he could. Unfortunately his instincts failed him rather spectacularly and he tossed it behind himself, wincing at the fleshy thud and resulting cry of pain as it smacked the other man right in the face.

“Nothing! Don’t look at it!”

“Hey, my book!”

“Wait…your book?”

Hashirama was rubbing his nose with one hand and holding the book with the other when Madara turned around, smiling at the front cover bemusedly. “I lent this to you ages ago and never got it back. Well, you said you gave it back but I never remembered putting it anywhere. I must have left it here at the office!”

A rather neat explanation to sidestep admitting he’d recovered yet another piece of memory, Madara latched on to the opportunity presenting itself without hesitation.

“Sure, must be yours if it’s in here. I found it on the bookshelf.” Not even a lie. Tobirama would be so proud of how sneaky he was being. Except Tobirama would not be told about this because then he would have to explain why he was jumpy enough to be throwing books at Hashirama's face. Shame was fine to share between them but he was trying to set up a surprise when their first date came back to him so any talk of remembering things was off the table.

Thankfully Hashirama wasn’t the type to question things beyond the easiest explanation. “Well I’m glad I found this, let me just tuck it back in here now that I know where it is. Now! What else should we show you around here?”

Madara wanted to see the prisons, mostly interested in whether or not they had any really impressive prisoners and to hear if he could take credit for some of them, but apparently they were all held inside the ANBU headquarters until being transferred to a prison somewhat outside the actual village. That made sense. Most people wouldn’t want to rub elbows with the scum of society. It was still disappointing. That would have made quite a fun little fieldtrip to wander from cell to cell like a visit to the zoo and hear all the terrible stories. He was willing to bet a society of shinobi would imprison only the most interesting of characters. Without having access to his memories, however, Hashirama was worried that his reaction times might be dulled and in the event one of the prisoners managed to slip their cage or even just reach through the bars neither of them wanted to take the chance that he could be injured.

Since that idea was out of the question he settled for poking his nose in to the rest of the tower floor by floor until he had a good idea of almost everything that went on here. It was kind of Hashirama to take so much time to do this with him, actually. Eventually he would get all of his memories back and it wasn’t like there would be anything missing once the jutsu in his head faded completely so really all this learning was entirely unnecessary but Hashirama didn’t seem to mind at all. In fact he seemed to delight in showing off all the things they had built together and Madara couldn’t help but get a little swept away in the pride shining from him. There was no doubt in his mind he would feel the same pride when it all came back.

It was fairly close to dinner hour by the time he got home so Madara wasn’t surprised in the least to find Tobirama already in the kitchen with his sleeves rolled up and dinner halfway done on the stove. He took a moment to admire the sight of those delicious forearms as he strolled in and planted himself in the closest available chair.

“Are we sure that Hashirama is your brother and not mine?” he asked, about to throw his feet up on the table but stopping at a sharp look from his partner. “He sure seems to like me.”

“You may keep him if you wish. He’s quite loud. Though I feel obligated to point out that he does seem to enjoy my company as well.”

“Likes me better,” Madara teased.

Tobirama twisted around to wave a spatula at him in warning and he raised both hands in surrender.

“Did you get up to anything interesting while I was gone?” he asked instead.

“I spent a bit of time with my cousin and she showed me to my laboratory. Because apparently I have one of those. No matter how many times I told her that the jutsu can only fade with time I think she was still hoping that something in there might strike a spark and bring everything flooding back in.” Tobirama rolled his eyes but he was smiling; he must have bonded with this cousin, whoever they were, more than he was letting on.

Keeping it a secret that things were starting to come back to him felt almost naughty, a little thrill that he concealed with a quick clearing of his throat and a shift of his weight. Leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table gave him a place to fold his hands and hide his smile behind them as he watched Tobirama go back to stirring whatever he had cooking on the stove. Every line in his body spelled deadly elegance yet with his sleeves rolled up and a spot of flour on one leg of his pants he looked positively domestic. It was a side of him that he wouldn’t show to anyone he wasn’t close to and Madara couldn’t wait to discover how he’d gotten so lucky to be one of those people.

Dinner was quiet for the most part, seated on opposite sides of the table with their feet piled together underneath for warmth and maybe also as their own way of keeping close without being disgustingly overt like Hashirama was with his wife. The two of them were compatible in so many ways but this was one of the ones Madara was most grateful for. While both of them enjoyed the pleasure of each other’s presence and the grounding comfort of physical touch, neither really wanted to be completely wrapped around the other all the time. Folding their feet together during dinner or sitting close enough for their thighs to touch while they both did their own thing was plenty without being overwhelming. There was no need to sit right in each other’s laps.

Well, not all the time anyway. It was nice every once in a while.

After dinner they retired to the living room with mugs of tea and Tobirama sketched out a few seal-like designs he said had been stuck in his mind all day while Madara recounted most of what he’d gotten up to with Hashirama in the village center. From the sounds of it they were both very busy people usually, way too many things on either of their plates. When he mentioned that Tobirama gave him a wry look and muttered that maybe they should keep it a secret when everything came back to them and extend their pseudo-vacation. Madara very carefully changed the subject.

He went to bed that night in high spirits. Overall the day had been fun and relaxing, an adventure without leaving the safety of home territory, and such a calm evening had been the perfect end to it all. Crawling underneath the covers and curling up with Tobirama’s hand in his own was the cherry on top. Madara fell asleep with a smile on his face ready to dream.

And dream he did. He dreamed of Tobirama in what looked like the office he’d been told was his own, arms crossed and expression pinched. Unlike the hazy quality of most dreams this felt crystal clear in the same way that his returning memories had except this was no quick flash but a detailed scene, an event, a moment relived in real time. Madara watched through his own eyes as Tobirama tossed his head in a motion filled with more attitude than any teenager could possibly hope to achieve, scoffing in the way that meant someone had just said something stupid.

_“You don’t know what you’re talking about. Perhaps if you just sat quietly during the next meeting and allowed your betters to speak we all might hear something that’s actually worth being said.”_

_“Excuse me?”_ Madara heard his own voice demanding. _“You cannot possibly be implying that you are my better.”_

_“If the shoe fits.”_

_“One more word and I will hit you with a shoe, Senju! How dare you! I am twice the man you are! At least I say what I mean when I have something to say instead of attacking people in their private spaces!”_

Tobirama rolled his eyes. _“Would you have preferred if I had torn your arguments apart in public? Because I can do that next time. I am, of course, always very happy to make a fool of you in front of others – not that you don’t already do a good job of that yourself.”_

_“Fuck you!”_ Madara could hear the rage in his own voice, feel it coursing through his body. _“This world would be so much better off if you would just go find a hole to die in somewhere!”_

He came awake with a strangled gasp as though for all the oxygen around him drawing one breath were an insurmountable chore. Something leaden and heavy sat on his chest as the memory he’d just lived through in his dream played on repeat again and again in his mind. As much as he wanted to pretend it was nothing more than a figment of his own imagination there was no denying what he’d just seen, how real it had felt.

Madara pushed himself up in to a sitting position, dragging the blankets along as well until the body next to him was exposed to the air as well, and turned to look back down at the man he was so sure he had always been in love with. It must have taken some time for the dream to come to him judging by the depth of the shadows around them but Tobirama’s pale skin shone like a beacon even with just the tiniest sliver of light coming through the curtains. No shadow could ever dull the sharp edge of that jaw. Despite having only just pulled air in to his lungs Madara lost it all again the moment he took in Tobirama’s peacefully sleeping face.

This was the rock he had clung to as a bastion of safety and sanity when all the rest of the world was unknown. Here was a man he had looked at and thought with perfect clarity ‘yes, I am in love with him’, a man he had spent weeks with and been perfectly happy every minute of every day. Anyone who spent even an hour with them together would have to agree that they were a wonderful match.

And yet. _And yet_. With one memory came another and then another and even more, a flood of all the years gone by rushing in. Madara bent his knees to rest his head against then and clutched at his temples in an effort to make sense of the jumble inside of him. Everything he’d learned and everything that he had known mixed together in a confusing mess that almost physically hurt to sort through but he forced himself to keep calm, bringing himself back to the moment that everything changed and scouring his double memories for the exact differences between them. Once he was able to breathe enough to concentrate it wasn’t all that hard to understand what had happened or to process what changed exactly.

It did break his heart. This man at his side loved him now in these moments. He had no doubt that Tobirama had experienced that same click he had when they looked at each other as double blank slates and decided that they fit together. But before that moment, every moment before that one all the way back to the very first time they met so many years before, they had hated each other to the very bone. Tobirama was not the love of his life as Madara had thought. He was the one person in this village that Madara still saw as an enemy.

The moment of clarity he’d been waiting for was here but it was nothing like he’d imagined it would be Instead of feeling reassured and happy he felt only tense and more confused than ever. Everything he’d felt for Tobirama before and all the history between them clashed directly with all the new memories and impressions he’d made since in a direct contrast he had no idea how he was going to sort out. Did he love Tobirama or did he hate him? Were they mortal enemies or were they perfect for each other? Most importantly of all, now that he gotten to know Tobirama could he go back to pretending he wanted nothing more than the enmity they had so carefully cultivated over the years? The memories he’d been waiting to get back said yes but the weeks he had spent so happily at Tobirama’s side screamed a broken-hearted no.

Madara squeezed his head a little tighter, unable to decide what to do. One part of him sneered with disgust and demanded that he leap out of this bed lest Tobirama’s skin brush his own in any way. That part of him wanted so badly to deny that he had ever set foot in his enemy’s bedroom or touched that body in any way even close to resembling intimacy. But the other part of him wanted nothing more than to lay back down and pretend that everything was fine, to live in this fantasy for just a little longer while he still had the chance.

After all, Tobirama had no way of knowing that he remembered.

It was a dangerous idea. Obviously his partner’s confusion was going to be the same when things came back to him and there was no telling when that would be – just like there was no telling which path he would choose when it did happen. This could all blow up in his face quite spectacularly. But when had Madara ever stopped to worry about the possible consequences to his own actions?

Laying back down felt more right than wrong and Madara used careful movements to squirm up against Tobirama as close as possible, covering them with the blankets again like he’d never disturbed them in the first place. He still had time. There was no need to make his decision on what to do right now and there was really no point in rocking the boat before he knew for sure which part of himself he was going to listen to. Maybe after a good sleep he would have a clearer idea of what path he wanted to take. There was nothing like the first glance of someone’s face in the early morning light to illuminate how you truly felt about them.

Madara closed his eyes and squeezed them tight, tempted to pray but unsure what he would pray for. He had already been planning to keep his recovering memory a secret. It shouldn’t be such a big deal to keep this secret instead until he could sort the mess inside his head and figure out what his heart truly wanted.


	4. Chapter 4

Waking up to Tobirama’s face the next morning didn’t happen precisely the way Madara planned it. He’d fallen asleep envisioning the gradual drift back to awareness and opening his eyes to find that familiar gaze blinking back at him with the same morning squint and messy hair he’d been waking up to for weeks. A moment of clarity to help him decide. Instead he was woken up by the sound of angry grumbling, cracking his lids to see Tobirama already dressed for the day and rustling through the bookshelf on the opposite side of the room. His hair was still sticking up in wild places as it was wont to do – he never combed it until he actually needed to leave the house – but it wasn’t exactly the soft morning light moment that Madara had expected.

“I know it’s in here,” Tobirama was muttering to himself as he dug through a basket of random items shoved between two stacks of textbooks. “Where would I–? Ha! Yes, I knew it!”

He spun with a worn and yellowed notebook in hand only for his triumphant expression to melt away in to guilt when he spotted the eyes watching him with bleary confusion.

“Good morning to you too,” Madara said, buying himself a little more time to think.

“Ah. My apologies. I did not mean to wake you.”

“S’fine.”

Tobirama smiled at him then and swept across the room. Before Madara had a chance to decide how he wanted to react he found soft lips pressing against his brow in a fond and familiar gesture. He waited for the disgust, for the wave of hatred that had accompanied every interaction between the two of them since they first met at the river as young indoctrinated children, but it never came. All he felt was warm. Perhaps a little fidgety.

“Did you sleep well?” Tobirama asked him.

“No. I had a nightmare.” As soon as the words were out he wanted to hit himself. He really hadn’t meant to admit that.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He’d never shaken his head quite so vigorously before and he didn’t even realize the impression it would give until Tobirama kissed his brow again with an achingly understanding look. Clearly the man thought he’d had an actual nightmare, the type even men like them didn’t want to think about, and for a moment he was possessed of the instinctual need to puff himself up and shout that he wasn’t so weak as to be scared by whatever his sleeping imagination could come up with. He clenched his jaw and said nothing. That was an old habit, yelling at Tobirama, always trying to prove himself the better. His new memories were much more genial and if he wanted a little more time to get himself set straight on what he wanted then there could be no hints of anything but what this current Tobirama expected from him.

“Breakfast then?”

“Yeah, that would be good. Unless you’ve already eaten.”

Tobirama shook his head, offering a hand. After what he hoped was a barely perceptible pause Madara took the hand and allowed himself to be pulled up out of bed. Preparing breakfast together was something they had done often enough to be considered normal and it was nice to just let his thoughts fall away, following along with comfortable patterns. Later he could tear himself apart with indecision. Trying to think right now with Tobirama’s genius mind and sharp eyes watching his every move would be a quick way to get himself discovered.

Guilt washed over him but Madara ruthlessly pushed it away to concentrate on the now.

The now could only last for so long, however, and breakfast was over much quicker than he wanted it to be. It felt like one moment they were standing at the stove preparing rice and eggs and then the next moment Tobirama was drawing him in for a slow lingering kiss goodbye before heading off to romp around in the laboratory he had discovered. With his memories Madara could have told the man what sort of madness usually went on in there and how many dangerous things were hiding in innocuous places like jars on the shelves or unlabeled scrolls. But nothing terrible had happened yet and saying anything would have given him away so he kept his mouth shut, watching in silence as that pert little bottom hustled out the door.

Why, he asked himself as he spun back around abruptly, was he staring at Tobirama’s ass? Never in his life had he so much as considered staring at Tobirama’s ass. Well, not before anyway. He had certainly done more than that in the time since the incident. Madara groaned and wobbled in to the living room so he could collapse on the couch. If he considered himself in any way classy he might have described the weakness in him as an attack of the vapors but he wasn’t quite as delicate as that. Almost but not quite. He still felt quite shaken as the personality and opinions he had developed over a lifetime came finally and truly face to face with the fact that, given a chance to meet again with no prejudice, he had actually come to enjoy having Tobirama in his life. They had grown close. They had been undeniably good for each other.

And they had fallen in love as easily as breathing.

Unequipped as he was to deal with this sort of thing, his first thought was that he should leap up and find someone to talk him through this, someone who could help make sense of the madness he’d gotten himself in to. The big problem with that plan was that there simply wasn’t anyone for him to talk to. Izuna was the last person to ask for an opinion on whether he should leave Tobirama or stick it out to see if these new feelings could handle the pressure of all the past between them. He knew even without asking what his brother’s answer to that would be. And he couldn’t go to Hashirama either because the man had a mouth so big the entire village would know he’d remembered everything long before he ran in to Tobirama again – not to mention the familial bond between them sort of biased Hashirama's answer too. That was pretty much the entire list of people Madara trusted with his personal life. He’d never been a man with a very large inner circle.

Letting his body droop over the furniture like he was only accentuated the confusion inside him so Madara sat up and let his head flop over the back of the sofa instead to stare up at the ceiling. There were really only two options here so he wasn’t sure why he was being so indecisive. Normally he was the type to pick a direction on gut feeling alone and then cling to that decision with everything he had. Stubborn as a goat just like Tobirama had said so many times. Being so unsure was new to him and he really didn’t like the way it made him feel, all twisted up in his belly and hot in his chest like he’d swallowed his own Grand Fireball.

In a moment of true weakness he considered going and talking to Mito. Of all people that devil woman could be counted on to give a brutally honest summary of his options and despite her connection to Tobirama she could probably provide an objective opinion as well. He still decided against it. She had always hated him a little too strongly for his general comfort and the thought of giving her so much power over him make every inch of skin on his body itch.

That left him with absolutely no one to vent to, though, and there was simply too much inside of him to keep it all contained. Which half of his heart did he listen to? One side had been taught that Tobirama was the root of all evil and sneered when he passed but the other side looked at him with soft eyes and yearning fingers and the two halves of him were so at ends he felt caught between two crashing waves in a never ending moment of pure indecision. He needed to decide. And if he couldn’t then he needed to do something with all of the frantic energy building inside as the panic started to rise. If anyone walked in the door at that moment it would take only one look at him to know that something was terribly wrong, just the opposite of the image he was trying to convey.

With jitters in his limbs Madara brought his head up and rolled to his feet all in one smooth motion, heading for the door only to turn back around as he reached for the handle when he realized he was not entirely dressed. It took barely a minute to throw on proper clothing, another four or five to wrestle his hair in to a low ponytail instead of brushing it, then he was moving for the door again and doing his best not to tense automatically as he stepped out alone in to Senju territory. Factually he knew that the people here had gotten well used to him in the weeks he’d been living among them but a large part of his brain now looked around and wondered how many of them were still uncomfortable to see him strolling about unescorted as though he belonged. Until the accident he had rarely set foot in this area of the village and only ever when Hashirama dragged him over for dinner.

Deciding where to go was a lot easier than deciding what to do with the rest of his life. Madara's feet were already heading east almost before he consciously acknowledged where he was going, straight for the same place he had always gone to when emotions or life in general threatened to overwhelm him, one of the only places he felt safe letting everything out. Passing the guards at the gate was as easy as pointing vaguely off in the direction he wanted and they waved him on by without further question. He remembered now that they were used to seeing him pop off in to the woods for a bit of venting and wondered if they knew about the memories he wasn’t supposed to have, if they thought it was odd to finally see him popping off again after so long staying away from his favorite stomping grounds.

The closer he got to the clearing the antsier he felt, like his body knew why it was here and grew only more and more eager with every step. By the time he finally stepped past the ring of seals that would contain the worst of his damage he was nearly vibrating and it was nothing short of a relief to haul back and punch the first tree that dared to grow in his path. Hashirama could always grow another tree. Right now he had some feelings to express.

Way too many feelings and all of them conflicting.

Gritting his teeth, Madara watched the wood explode in to thousands of splinters and thought, _not enough_. The first tree had no time to fall from where it was clouding the air before he spun and decimated another. And another. It wasn’t enough. Lips peeled back in a tight grimace, he clasped both hands together in one large fist, raised them up, then brought them crashing down to split the earth at his feet. Watching the crack stretch out before him was satisfying but it still just wasn’t nearly enough to release everything he was feeling.

A guttural cry filled with emotions he didn’t even want to name escaped as he lifted his arms and brought them back down again, this time without chakra just to feel the sting of the impact. That helped. When he stood he spun and kicked a tree to hear the shatter of wood and the crashing impact as it fell to the earth. Long used to the thrill of battle, his body responded to his actions out of habit, feeding him adrenaline and pumping chakra hot through his veins. Madara pulled on it and flew through a set of hand signs he could have performed in his sleep.

The fire wouldn’t leave his little ring of seals but just watching the flames chew at the leaves, flickering and dancing and destroying everything in their path, that was better. That was enough. He did it again. Over and over Madara went through his entire arsenal of fire jutsu, screaming with every breath just because it felt good. Something about flame had always been so cathartic to him, cleansing, burning away the feelings he didn’t want to leave room for the calm he so desperately needed. With so much inside of him there could be no easy fix this time but it still felt good to rage and kick up a fuss out here where there was no one to see his moment of weakness, no one to judge as he beat the world in to the submission he wanted from his own heart. The irony did not escape him that so many times in the past Tobirama had been the one to disparage him for his lack of control and here he was being such a fine example of everything the man had been talking about as he tried to decipher his feelings for that very same person.

Of course, he couldn’t keep up that much steam forever. No matter his larger than average chakra stores they were not bottomless. Eventually running through so many jutsu one after the other began to take its toll and Madara felt his limbs flagging, his fingers struggling to form the signs as quickly as he wanted them to. He pushed himself further still. It was another hour at least before finally he kicked a burning tree and found he no longer had the strength to crack it down with one blow or even two. Only when he fell still did he finally realize that he was heaving for breath, sucking in great gulps of air, sweat running down his face in thick rivulets to drip from his chin.

Pausing to look around himself was like watching the world come back in to focus as a genjutsu faded away. Without noticing he had somehow managed to stomp his way in to a completely different part of the forest, still within the massive area of safety protected by seals but quite far from where he started. He didn’t even remember moving his feet very much except to kick at the trees. Turning to look behind, Madara sighed. The forest looked much like it had when they first came through and began tearing up trees to clear room for the first rows of houses back during the initial construction of their village. Hashirama was going to lecture him for hours about being nicer to the trees, the great windbag. He had the power to make entire forests appear in minutes yet he cried every time someone stepped on a twig.

Facing forward didn’t comfort him very much either, standing on the edge of the Naka River in one of the spots where it grew shallow enough to wade across with no chakra. It felt like irony that he would find something even out here to remind him of Tobirama.

Without giving his actions much thought Madara stumbled forward and splashed in to the shallow river, crumpling down to sit on his bottom and allow the gentle flow of water to cool his heated skin. At first he felt a little ridiculous but shuffling backwards a little gave him a nice rock to lean up against and drop his head back to stare up at the sky. Hours had gone by. The sun was much farther across the sky than it had been when he arrived, far enough that he should have been thinking about getting home for lunch except whenever he thought of home there were two places that came to mind and that right there was his entire problem. Where was home really?

His vision glazed over as his thoughts began to drift. All the adrenaline that had driven him onward through his little temper tantrum had burned away to leave him feeling almost hollow in the aftermath. This was exactly what he’d needed. With exhaustion in his limbs and his mind just a little hazy with it he allowed his thoughts to simply go where they would, instinct finally taking the reins over all the thoughts of ‘ _I should thi_ s _’_ or ‘ _I should that_ ’.

Stupidly, his first thought was to compare the river water to Tobirama himself. Not so much because the man was basically water in human form or even because of the deep connection he had to his own element but rather because of the coolness of it, the gentle soothing feeling as it flowed on by. It quite reminded him of what life had been like for the last few weeks. Tobirama in private was a cool and soothing presence ready at a moment’s notice to calm the fires that Madara stoked with the easiest provocation. A brush of his chakra was much the same sensation as the flow of water against skin, cleansing, comforting. Lying here with the water flowing around him felt like the river were washing away all the confusion and doubt to leave him with nothing but one simple thought.

Eyes widening, breath hitching, Madara continued to stare upwards without truly seeing the sky as everything inside of him fell in to place with a startlingly gentle click. It was like the clouds parting for a ray of light to come through except he wasn’t really looking at the clouds. For all the confusion he’d been wrestling with since he woke in the middle of the night he had failed to realize one simple yet all-important truth. The memories of hatred, the terrible thoughts of all the wrongs he and Tobirama had committed against each other and all the ways they simply couldn’t work, those only came when he looked for them. When he turned his brain off and let instinct take over his first thoughts of Tobirama were yearning and soft – embarrassingly so. The choice of what he wanted had never been a hard one.

He had already made his choice, apparently. All he’d needed to do was accept it and accepting his own emotions had always been his greatest downfall. Denial was more his forte.

A smile turned up the corners of his lips and Madara just barely resisted the urge to splash both arms about him like a joyful child. Even here where he was completely alone there was no need to throw his dignity so completely to the wind in such a manner. He did bring his hands up just to watch the water pouring out between his fingers, back in to the river to flow away downstream with all his doubts.

His skin was a little pruned when he finally hauled himself out, his clothing sopping wet, and he was afraid to check his pockets to see if there was anything in them that he might have just ruined with river water. But he felt lighter than air and at the same time more grounded than he might have ever felt before in his life. His steps were easy and swift as he wound his way back through the carnage he’d made of the forest, not even the thought of Hashirama's reaction to all this enough to sour his mood.

In fact, his steps paused for a moment only to continue with the smile on his face turning ever so slightly evil. Hashirama. That absolute weasel. He had looked the both of them in the eye and blatantly lied without a single thought for how they would feel when that damn jutsu faded. Best friends or not that was a betrayal Madara would not be quick to forget. That was just the sort of blindly hopeful idiocy he would expect from the man but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to take his time planning the sweetest, most painful revenge he could think up. And being possessed of a slightly twisted mind there were all sorts of painful things he could think up to make Hashirama's life a living hell.

And for Izuna as well. Just because they were siblings that didn’t mean he would skimp on revenge when it was necessary. Madara scoffed to think that Izuna had tried to protect himself by telling him to remember he had asked to be left alone. What nonsense. In a state of mind where he only had access to half the necessary information of course he would say something like that. As a good and loving brother Izuna should have given him the other half of the information he needed long before that point. Madara was glad he hadn’t, obviously, but that didn’t change the fact that he should have.

Both of them were due for a world a pain.

Returning home was a much lighter journey than leaving had been and stepping through the same front door he’d run out of earlier brought a feeling of deep relief to have the confidence that he did want to be here. Tobirama’s chakra was still buzzing away where his labs were set up beyond the edge of the compound, no sign that he was heading home yet. It hit Madara just then that he’d never actually stood and watched the man work. He’d heard all sorts of stories from Hashirama of course and made a lot of assumptions based mostly off of rumors but for all that he claimed to know the sort of mad science that went on in there he had never stood and witnessed anything with his own two eyes. Well, nothing beyond the motions of Tobirama pausing in his work to glare at him the few times he had gone to interrupt the man. At some point he really should tag along and see how right or wrong his assumptions had been.

That was for later, though. Right at the moment he was making a mess of Tobirama’s well-scrubbed floors with all the water he was dripping everywhere. Since he was alone here for the moment he felt no shame stripping off so he could deal with the clothing first, tramping back to the front hallway naked with a towel in hand to deal with that mess second. Only once both of those things were taken care of did he hop in to the shower for a quick rinse so he wouldn’t have to spend the rest of his day stinking of the river.

Lunch time was right on top of him after he was dressed again with his hair brushed out properly so he set about whipping something up for both of them in case Tobirama miraculously remembered to eat. And it was a good thing he did. No sooner had he set the table than he felt that familiar cool water sensation flowing towards him, bringing an unconscious smile to his face. He felt almost like a domestic house husband standing by the table with contentment in his chest waiting to serve the meal he had made for them both and, oddly enough, there was no part of him that balked at feeling that way. Even his pride was purring happily to know that he could make such a good partner.

“Someone looks like he’s had a good day so far,” Tobirama murmured after pausing in the doorway. Ignoring the food for a moment, he first came over to pull Madara close and kiss him gently on both cheeks.

“I did. It was very…enlightening.” He smiled to see his partner pull away to give him a suspicious look.

“Been reading strange books again, I take it?”

“I’ll never tell.”

Tobirama eyed him for a moment more before ostensibly deciding that he could live without knowing. They sat down to eat a peaceful lunch together and Madara was happy to keep the conversation away from himself, asking questions about what the other man had gotten up to in the lab. He wondered how complicated the experiments could be if Tobirama didn’t remember most of his own scientific knowledge or if it was all so instinctually ingrained in him that he was able to pick it back up without much thought.

From the sounds of it most of Tobirama’s afternoon today had been filled with reading through some old notebooks that he’d found hidden in a dusty back cupboard, looking through projects that seemed to have been abandoned some time ago. Just listening to the passion in his voice was so magnetic Madara was left wondering how he could have never noticed before. This was the same passion he’d heard a hundred times and more at the council table and yet he’d never realized before how captivating it could be.

It boggled the mind that he could have been so blinded by an ages-old baseless hatred that he couldn’t see something this beautiful right in front of his face. He almost wanted to find a way to go back in time just so he could kick some sense in to himself. Not just for wasting so much time when he could have been as happy as he had been during this entire episode but for being such a piss poor unobservant idiot. How could he stand to call himself one of the paramount shinobi when he couldn’t see past his own prejudice to something this big underneath? It was almost unthinkable how badly he had failed to summarize Tobirama in his own mind.

They cleaned up from the meal together and afterwards Tobirama noted that he was beginning to feel stagnant, not having exercised in any way yet that day. He invited Madara to spar in the backyard, unaware of the man’s current state of half exhaustion, and Madara was rather proud of himself for not letting the panic show on his face. Instead he sidestepped the offer by saying he had already gone through some light exercise himself. Tobirama only shrugged, moving outside to begin stretching in the middle of the backyard.

Since he really had nothing else to do at the moment Madara brewed himself a cup of tea and settled on the engawa to watch. Observation was the sort of skill one should never allow to get rusty and what better subject to practice on than Tobirama bending his body in to all sorts of interesting shapes? Studying the minute shifts of muscle and the perfect control he had of every motion was a very pleasant way to spend the next hour or so, so pleasant in fact that he began to wonder why they hadn’t done this more often.

“Are you sure you don’t wish to join me?” Tobirama asked eventually with a quiet chuckle. “You have that look in your eyes that says you want something.”

“Maybe I just want you,” Madara heard himself purring, covering his surprise with a sip of tea.

Tobirama rolled his eyes but he was smiling. “Yes, thank you, that wasn’t made entirely obvious by the drool on your chin.”

Horrified, Madara swiped at the corners of his mouth to make sure there wasn’t actually any drool. Thankfully the man was just teasing him. After glaring he harrumphed and stood to clear away the dishes he’d brought out with him. If he was only going to be made fun of then sitting out here didn’t sound very fun anymore. Just because he loved the man, loved his irascibility even, that didn’t mean he had to roll over and take such grievous abuse.

Muffled laughter followed him inside.

Until the other was finished getting a bit of energy out Madara entertained himself with poking around the kitchen and mentally planning out dinner for later. He was only just wondering whether he should tackle some of the laundry, maybe clean up some of the evidence of his little dip in the river, when Tobirama finally came inside, pulling off his shirt as he walked to wipe the sweat from his brow.

Just like that Madara was back to staring. In some ways he had always known that Tobirama was physically attractive, that was the sort of thing that was hard not to notice. But the few times that pale skin and red eyes had snuck in to his imagination as he lay pleasuring himself at night he had always cast such thoughts as far away as possible. He’d been barely willing to even consider the man human so strong had been his hatred and it was only now that he’d been forcibly given a second glance that he thought to wonder why.

What made his hatred so strong for this one person? There were hundreds of other Senju and every one of them had Uchiha blood on their hands. Hell, there were still some of them alive who could be implicated in his own siblings’ deaths, though Madara had no proof to make any accusations. For all his faults Tobirama had always been one of the loudest voices calling to end the tradition of child hunting. It should have been a point in his favor.

“I think I’ll do laundry,” the man in question mumbled to himself. “No one else should have to deal with this stench.” He held his shirt out in front of him with a wrinkled nose and ambled off down the hallway to do the laundry Madara had just been thinking of.

Alone again just like that, Madara stumbled over to the living room and slumped down on the couch in a mirror of the position he had worried away his morning in. Waiting for Tobirama to remember was all he could do, leaving it up to fate or luck was all well and good, but how much of a chance did he really have? When the memories came flooding back and Tobirama remembered how horribly he’d been treated over the years – well, Madara certainly wouldn’t blame him if he wasn’t able to see past that.

He sat bolt upright almost before his body had truly settled on the cushions. What was Tobirama going to think about the fact that Madara had remembered everything and yet chosen to stay here like a viper in the nest waiting to strike? In his joy to have finally understood his own heart he realized now that he hadn’t taken the time to consider Tobirama’s or the way his actions might look to the other man. He may not have as much of a chance as he had originally estimated.

Which was already a fairly small chance, if truth be told.

Scrubbing at his face with both hands didn’t help but at least he wasn’t building up more frantic energy that he would need some sort of excuse to run away and expel. Inviting someone to a spar would look incredibly suspicious after he had already claimed to be done with exercising for the day.

By the time Tobirama returned from tossing a load of laundry in the washer and soaking in the warm water Madara had left for him in the tub he found nothing more out of the ordinary than a happy calm looking partner reading a book on the sofa. He was smiling as he selected a book of his own and slid down on the other half of the couch to enjoy a bit of peaceful reading. Madara hoped that his heavy sigh of relief was quiet enough to go unnoticed but just in case he kept the book he was staring at raised to cover his face.

Reading, he had realized, gave him the perfect excuse to sit still and just stare off in the space while his thoughts ran in circles. All he had to do was turn a page every once in a while and Tobirama would never dare disturb him.

What he needed was a plan. If Tobirama’s old memories were going to convince him to leave then what Madara needed to do was give him a reason to stay. He needed to make new memories, happy memories that could demonstrate every reason they should be together. And he needed to get started on that right away; his own memories had already returned, Tobirama’s could come back at any time. That Yamanaka bitch had said their own chakra stores would simply dissolve the foreign chakra inside of them at an unknown rate so the way he figured it his slightly larger stores were probably the only reason he’d recovered first.

It was a race against time now. Lowering his book just enough to peer at the man on the other end of the couch, Madara offered a small prayer that he would have enough. Otherwise the only other plan was to confess everything and hope that for once in his life Tobirama showed mercy.


	5. Chapter 5

The moment the sun rose over the horizon Madara was out of bed and dressed, ready for the day. Since no one knew that he was himself again there was no one to drag him in to work and mess up his plans. It felt strange to woo a man that he’d already caught and although he knew it was odd Madara couldn’t help comparing it to insurance, in a way, except that if any terrible accidents happened the only thing that was going to break was his heart.

Well, and maybe a few bones as well. It depended on how angry Tobirama was in the case that he took exception to Madara's way of reacting to the situation. That was also a danger he needed to consider.

He had everything ready by the time Tobirama came wandering in to the kitchen with messy hair and a disgruntled expression, scolding him without words for leaving the bed cold. Utterly adorable. Madara took a step forward with the intention of pulling him in for a kiss and then stopped, covering his mistake with an awkward smile, hoping Tobirama didn’t notice. If he was going to confess at some point to already remembering everything between them then he didn’t want to be accused of taking advantage of the man. Wooing him was different then allowing them to be physically intimate. He did know what boundaries were, as much as some people seemed to think he didn’t.

That did not, apparently, stop Tobirama from crossing the space between them and planting a sleepy smooch on his cheek. Madara tried not to be too obvious about the stupidly mushy expression on his face as they ate breakfast together. It was nice to be desired. Even if he wasn’t stupid enough to take advantage of it he was certainly not going to stop himself from enjoying what he could while it was still available. Just in case.

“Alright,” Tobirama sat back after his bowl was empty. “I know that look in your eye. You’ve got something up your sleeve; out with it.”

“I want to take you somewhere,” Madara told him. Obviously not what the other had been expecting. Naked surprise filled Tobirama’s face before he was able to get it back under control.

“That sounds like someone has been making plans.”

“I have,” Madara easily admitted. “At some point we’ll have to go back to work so I thought we should enjoy this pseudo vacation while it lasts and go spend some time together properly.”

He waited a little impatiently as his partner eyed him, probably trying to determine whether he was serious or if he had some kind of hidden motivation, until at last Tobirama sat back and allowed himself a smile. The look in his eyes was so pleased that Madara wanted nothing more than to lean over and pull the man in to his lap, to kiss him until they both ran out of oxygen.

Taking his hand would have to do, soaking in the happy contentment between them.

“Where are we going then?” Tobirama asked.

“Patience. It’s a surprise.”

Even though that cost him the hand in his own Madara didn’t fret. By the time they got to their destination things would be fine. As it usually did, conversation picked up easily as soon as they left the house and very few people gave them a second glance as they strolled through the village side by side at an easy pace. Neither acknowledged it when Tobirama was the one to slot their fingers back together again. Acting smug would only ruin the romantic atmosphere that Madara was trying so hard to build.

The moment they turned the corner to where they were going he knew his plans had been figured out as Tobirama went stiff with excitement at his side and a pair of red eyes swung round to pin him in place.

“Are you taking me on a date to the library?” he demanded.

“I was hoping to surprise you with it but yes, we are going to the library. At this time of day there should be practically no one around but us and if we come now then there’s hours until I need to drag you away for food. Did I do good?” There was little point in asking when he already knew the answer but Madara had never been one to deny that he was a sucker for compliments.

“You did very well,” Tobirama said. He took the time for one quick kiss before using their linked hands to drag Madara forward at a hurried pace. “Come on, I know exactly which section I’d like to look at first!”

He easily ignored Madara's laughter as they both darted inside the building, shooting past the front desk clerk who made absolutely no move to stop them. It would not have surprised anyone if Tobirama was a frequent enough visitor that he no longer had to sign himself in to take books out. No one else seemed to be around, just as he predicted, so they were entirely alone as they wound their way through the stacks and shelves all piled high with books of every size and color. Madara was fairly sure he couldn’t count the number of times he’d been in here on both hands but if he used his toes that would probably cover it. He’d never been much for admitting he needed help and signing a book out of the public library had always felt tantamount to screaming it to the population at large.

If things worked out the way he hoped they would he had a feeling that he would be spending a lot more time here in the future. The thought was not a terrible one. Something about the silence and the scent of parchment lent an extra peaceful quality to the scene of Tobirama hunkering down in a corner the instant he had a book in his hands, eyes shining the way they only did when his mind was disappearing in to other realms.

Of course, he would do everything in his power to never back himself in to any position where he would be forced to admit that he enjoyed it here. Making fun of Tobirama for his studious ways was almost a staple of conversation between them. That his mockery would now be edged in fond tones rather than true disdain would not change anything else. He just hoped that no one bothered to take notice of the fact that his time without memories had instilled in him a surprise love for reading that hadn’t been there before. Until Tobirama influenced him to take the time for a quiet afternoon of losing himself in the words on a page he’d always believed it would bore him to tears if he tried.

They passed a pleasant hour in utter silence, each with their own book to read from yet seated close so they could lean in to each other’s sides. Madara found himself utterly distracted when Tobirama began to absently play with a lock of his hair. He couldn’t feel it since the hair was too long for there to be a tug but from the corner of one eye he could see pale fingers coiling it up and the letting it unravel over and over, pausing to turn a page, then beginning the dance all over again. It was ridiculously sweet even if he guessed the other man had no idea he was doing it. Even more so, in fact, if that were the case.

Without interruption it was likely they might have spent the entire morning in that cozy little corner. Unfortunately that was not to be. Both of them looked up when a shadow fell across their pages barely more than an hour after they arrived. Tobirama was noticeably slower to drag his eyes away. When he did they found Izuna standing over them with both eyebrows raised to his hairline.

“Look at the two of you all comfy,” he murmured. “What a…pleasant surprise.”

“Izuna, I didn’t know you liked to read,” Madara said. A very true statement. He’d never seen his brother pick up a book for leisure before. By the scrunching of his nose he could tell what he should have assumed in the first place; he was here for something to do with his work.

“I could say the same to you.”

“Ah. New habit I suppose.” Just to tease, because that’s what brothers did, he gave his partner a besotted look. What use were these memories if he couldn’t use them to get on his sibling’s nerves?

Disgust showing a little too clearly on his face, at least Izuna did not pretend to gag. “If you’re going to be like that then maybe I should come back to get what I need later. And bring disinfectant. Everything here is probably contaminated now with your…ugh.”

Offended, even if only slightly, Madara would have snapped something back at him if Tobirama didn’t surprisingly beat him to the punch.

“If they are contaminated by anything it would be your mere presence, I should think.” He followed his statement with a delicate sniff. “Do be kind to the books and disinfect yourself while you’re at it. This knowledge is irreplaceable.”

“Hey! _I’m_ irreplaceable!”

“Are you though?”

Madara looked back and forth between the two of them with his eyebrows pinched. That was odd. Until now he’d hadn’t known Tobirama to have any sort of opinion on Izuna at all without his memories; he wouldn’t have had much time to form one with the way Izuna had been so carefully trying to avoid him. It was possible that he had picked up on the fact that the other disliked him and instinctually responded in kind. He was an intelligent man but he was also fairly catty, it was plausible.

Very strange, though.

“Ugh, fine, I get it. I’m not welcome here. Stay as long as you like, I’ll just come back and get what I need another day.” Izuna glared at his old rival, incensed when he got no more reaction than a mild look.

“If my presence is what bothers you”-Tobirama carelessly inspected a creased page in his book-“then I might consider staying here for a few days. To protect the books, you understand. So much precious knowledge should be defended from those who do not understand how to utilize it properly.”

“Are you calling me stupid, Senju!?”

“Were those the words that passed my lips?”

Entertaining as it was to watch the two of them go back and forth, Madara knew he should put a stop to this before they got anywhere close to their usual levels of aggression. The scene before him was eerily similar to any of the dozens he could now recall from the last few years and if he didn’t know any better he would have thought everything was back to normal. He wondered if maybe Tobirama’s memories weren’t starting to leak through after all.

If that was the case then he needed to step up his game wooing the man. And to do that he needed his brother gone. They could have a lovely reunion later when he wasn’t trying to secure the future he was finally so sure that he wanted.

“Alright, alright, calm down you two. Izuna, you know that I would defend your honor until the sun burned out but Tobirama would kill me if I let any harm come to these books. Can we stick a pin in this little catfight?” He tried to offer his sibling a winning smile, unsurprised when the response was a snort.

“Fine. I see how it is. Choosing his side, huh?”

“Well he _is_ my–”

Izuna cut him off before he could finish that sentence. “Don’t. Just…don’t.”

“Afraid of hearing a truth you don’t like? One would think you might be used to this by now.” Tobirama smirked in the face of his rival’s growl. “It’s been long enough at this point.”

“Go fall on a kunai,” Izuna spat.

Then he turned and stormed away with his hands clenched in to fists.

In his wake Madara stared at his partner with narrowed eyes. What an odd way to phrase that statement. Without his memories Tobirama should have no idea how long they had supposedly been together so to taunt Izuna like that was very strange indeed. Suspicious almost. Even if all of his memory hadn’t returned, to know that they had only been together for the months since that disastrous mission should have garnered some sort of reaction or questions from such an inquisitive mind. No matter how he turned that phrasing over in his head Madara couldn’t think of how else Tobirama might have meant what he said.

After a minute or so of indecision he decided he needed to question it. Doing so could ruin his plans but if they had already been ruined, if Tobirama was waiting around just to play him, he didn’t want to waste his time on the possibility of extra heartbreak.

“What did you mean by that?” he asked. His partner turned to him with his brows lifted.

“By what?”

“You said that it’s been long enough. How would you know how long we’ve been together?”

He only saw it because he was looking for it. If he hadn’t been so suspicious he never would have taken note of the single twitch, easily converted to look like a natural shift, but that was enough. Madara's breath hitched and for a moment it felt as though his entire world had just stopped.

“Oh,” he whispered, just barely loud enough to cover the sound of his own heart breaking. Then indignation crashed down over him and he shoved his finger in the other man’s chest to shout, “You remember!”

“What?”

“You’ve got your memories back!”

“How–”

Madara surged to his feet only to turn and continue to point in accusation. “Because you shouldn’t know that we weren’t together before this whole thing started! That’s why you were winding my brother up! You hate him – and you remember that!”

“You remember too!” Tobirama was on his own feet in an instant with a flabbergasted expression. Somehow that wasn’t what Madara had been expecting.

“Uh…I…”

He watched Tobirama open his mouth to say something and then close it, head whipping off to one side. When Madara followed his line of sight he found the single librarian on shift with their head popped around the corner to stare blatantly at the scene they were making. His partner snarled, turned to shove their books back where they belonged, then took Madara's wrist in a tight grip and in the next instant they appeared in the kitchen where they had sat and passed a peaceful breakfast together just that morning.

Were he possessed of any self-preservation instincts whatsoever Madara might have leapt back from the man who brought him here but after spending weeks and months together staying as close as possible was second nature.

“Do you have anything you’d like to share?” Tobirama asked expectantly.

“Fine!” Madara exploded. “Yes, I remember. But so do you! When exactly were you going to tell me that?”

His partner glared. “When I found a good moment to do so.”

“Oh sure! He was waiting for the right moment! To do what, humiliate me the most?”

“No. Much as you have a talent for thinking the worst of me, that was not my intention.”

“Wasn’t it?”

Madara clenched his teeth, afraid that if he didn’t his face would betray him and reveal all of the emotions bubbling up inside of him. The fear and the sorrow threatening to take control. With every word that passed between them all he could think was that this was exactly what he had feared. Reverting back to the antagonism that had always marked their non-existent relationship before was just too easy but oh how he wanted the softness back. There had only ever been one person he had truly been able to show it to and the thought of losing that was painful.

Until he stopped the snarl forming on his face in its tracks, blinking rapidly. If he wanted to stop this he could. Generally he wasn’t but just this once he could be the bigger person. That much was within his power. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and then opened them again to speak in a much calmer tone.

“When did you remember everything? Was it all at once or in pieces?”

“All at once,” Tobirama answered, visibly thrown off-balance by the sudden assertion of self-control.

“Okay. And when did that happen?” His guess was right there in the library since there hadn’t been any changes in behavior before then that he was able to spot. Nothing that stood out anyway.

“The night when you said that you had those bad dreams. I was already awake because my memories returned and I couldn’t go back to sleep afterwards.”

Madara gawped at him.

“Are you serious!?” he demanded. “Those weren’t bad dreams! That was me recovering my own shit!”

“You- really?”

“Oh my god, are you seriously telling me that we’ve both been dancing around each other trying not to give anything away for two days?”

He studied the micro expressions on Tobirama’s face intensely as the other man ran a hand through his hair. “It would appear so. That is entirely unexpected. It seems both of us are to be commended on our acting skills; or perhaps scolded for our poor observational ones.”

Nothing in that sentence gave away how he felt about the situation, much to Madara's annoyance. He hated few things more than being left in the dark about how other people felt and now more than ever it was important that he know how to proceed. One misstep here could lose him everything that he hadn’t had the proper time to build.

Despite his first instinct to damn Izuna for interrupting them he cast that thought aside. If not for that little spat between the two of them he might not have known that Tobirama was recovered for several more days and the gods only knew what sort of fool he would have been making of himself in that time.

“So why exactly were _you_ holding your horses?” Madara asked. “If you already knew everything…”

“I was, well-. The lab. With my memories I knew everything I could accomplish in my laboratory and I was able to find one of my old projects meant to recreate the mind sharing techniques of the Yamanaka. I did not wish to say anything just yet in case I was able to finish the technique. With that I would have been able to show you what is in my thoughts without all these messy words tangling everything and making it more difficult.”

“Okay I should have expected that it would have something to do with a jutsu but that isn’t quite what I ever would have guessed.”

Tobirama nodded slowly. “Every time you and I communicate we say the wrong things and we end up screaming. Then nothing really gets said. I just wanted a way around that.”

“Right. That’s a good thought.” Madara's whole body jolted. “Wait, no, hold on. You’ve been kissing me and stuff! And all normal! Well, new normal. You remembered everything but you didn’t pull away or stop being all mushy and…and…” Loving, he wanted to say, but it stuck in his throat and wouldn’t come out, held back behind a dam of hope slowly welling up until he wasn’t sure he could keep breathing around it. The light flush spreading across those pale cheeks was like dawn rising to show him that everything might be okay after all.

“Well yes. Those are the- I _did_ want to communicate _something_ you know.”

“You want this,” Madara realized.

“I might.” Shifting uncomfortably, Tobirama made a tight expression. “What we’ve had the last few weeks is entirely unexpected and I am perhaps not quite ready to give up on it.”

From anyone else that would have been barely a lukewarm sentiment but from Tobirama, with all the knowledge he had of this man and all the ways he had known them both to communicate with others, Madara knew enough to read those words for what they really were: a heartfelt confession. They were the words he wanted to say but couldn’t, the words he had turned to jutsu invention for a way to express.

They were everything he wanted to hear.

“So we both snapped out of it on the same night. And we’ve both been hiding the fact that we remember everything this whole time. Because neither of us wanted to lose whatever this is between us and we’ve both been trying to find our own ways to keep it. Do I have all this right?” Madara lifted one eyebrow questioningly at the other man only for Tobirama to give him a look he could only describe as vulnerable.

“You didn’t want to lose this either?”

“Oh. Uh, yeah, I guess I could have mentioned that.”

With a brief wry twist of his lips Tobirama agreed, “It would have been nice.”

“Alright well if we both want this then why the fuck aren’t you throwing me down on a table or something?” Madara demanded. “Take what you want, you bloody Senju!”

Tobirama gave him a flat look. Then he did as he was told. In an instant Madara found the back of his thighs pressing in to the kitchen table with a hot mouth slanted over his own, translating all that passion that had always existed between them in to something much more pleasant than petty bickering. Fingers clawed at his sleeves and Madara responded with burying his own in Tobirama’s hair. Nothing about them was gentle as it had been but this was almost better. This was a perfect marriage of their unknowing softness and the sharp edges they had been cutting each other with for so long.

Hands slid around his waist and for a moment Madara thought they were headed to cup his bottom, not something he was entirely opposed to, but like he always did Tobirama managed to surprise him by continuing upwards to press against the small of his back, holding their bodies just that little bit closer. It was an unexpectedly tender gesture, especially now as they devoured each other like animals in heat.

It felt as though one moment he was pawing for the front of his partner’s clothing and the next he was panting in the aftermath. Spread across the futon, he stared wide-eyed at the ceiling without seeing it. Tobirama’s heartbeat thundered underneath his head as the dregs of adrenaline coursed through their veins and he wondered if they would have ever been able to reach this point on their own without the help of the jutsu that took everything but their names. Even now that he had his memories he couldn’t recall ever learning the names of the bandits they had fell on that day but he wished he had. He owed their spirits a quiet thank you.

Naked, sweaty, and more comfortable than he could have ever imagined, Madara fumbled around with one hand until he located another to twine their fingers together. He grinned breathlessly when Tobirama gently squeeze him back.

“You’ve already basically moved in,” his partner mumbled. “Give it a few weeks trial before we make it official?”

“Of course you would want to declare a trial period. Bloody scientist.”

“Is that a no?”

“Fuck you.” Madara clenched their hands together a little tighter and closed his eyes. “It’s a yes.”

Tobirama hummed, the sound of it reverberating through Madara's skull. “Right. Good. Next order of business. Who should we murder first, my brother or yours?”

A bark of laughter escaped and Madara could already tell that this was one life changing decision he would never regret.

For the next couple of hours that futon saw several things it would never forget and by the time the two of them were staggering out of the house again they both wore dopey smiles of blissful satisfaction. This time as they walked through town their hands remained separated but they walked close enough that their arms might as well have been wound about each other’s waists. Madara hoped they weren’t carrying the scent of the bedroom with them but he honestly wasn’t sure it mattered; everything they’d just done to each other was probably plainly visible with just one look.

Not to say that taking each other raw in to the mattress was the only thing they’d been doing to fire up their blood. Both of them were wearing vicious expressions as they wove their way through town and in to the administration tower where, by happy coincidence, they found both of their prey in the same place. Izuna looked up from where he was handing off a sheaf of documents to Hashirama and as soon as he spotted them his mood seemed to sour. Hashirama's brightened.

“I didn’t expect to see either one of you today,” he said, leaping up to come around the desk. “What brings you around?”

“Got tired of defiling the library?” Izuna grumbled.

Quite empty of any good will for either of these idiots, Madara smirked. “Yes, we moved on to the bedroom shortly after. Be glad you weren’t in the same building.” He relished the sounds of his brother gagging.

“Oh no. No I don’t think we need to hear about that.” Hashirama's steps faltered as he turned an interesting shade of green which clashed horribly with his already browned skin.

“What’s the matter, Anija? I thought you would be happy to see me so happy. Both of us. Together. Not even fighting. Isn’t this what you’ve always dreamed of?” With a perfect mix of innocence and evil intent Tobirama fluttered his eyes at his older brother. Madara had never loved him more. 

“I’m very happy for you both!” Hashirama insisted. “Um, I would just rather not hear about those kinds of things. That’s not the sort of thing a man needs to know about his sibling.”

To the side Izuna was looking at them closely.

“Hold up…” he murmured.

“Is something wrong?” Tobirama asked, turning to him expectantly.

“Yeah, how the hell would you know what anyone has ‘always dreamed of’? As far as you know his dream could have been for you to sell yourself off to the geisha for a bit of extra cash.” Izuna crossed his arms to glare suspiciously.

“That is…hm. He makes a good point.” Hashirama tapped his chin with one finger. “Ah, aside from the geisha part. You know I would never do that to you Tobi. Or I hope you know. But, er, the dream thing. Izuna’s right, there is indeed something strange about that. I just can’t quite put my finger on what.”

Amused by the deeply thoughtful look on his face, Madara just barely managed not to laugh out loud. Watching Hashirama try to think his way through any particularly complicated thoughts was always a bit of a wild ride. He wasn’t a stupid man by any stretch, though you wouldn’t catch Madara admitting to that, but neither was he anything close to a complicated mind. Hashirama preferred the straight forward and easy solutions. Emotions he was good at; reading between the lines of someone else’s words he was not.

“Wait a minute,” he said finally, light sparking in those deep brown eyes. “You said fighting. Why would you mention fighting? No one’s ever mentioned anything about you guys not getting along and you haven’t had even one little spat since you got home from that mission!”

“Mn, not precisely true,” Madara snickered under his breath.

Ignoring him, Tobirama mirrored his sibling by tapping himself on the chin with exaggerated thought. “Very strange indeed. I wonder what could possibly have put the thought of fighting in to my mind.”

“They remember!” Izuna snarled. “And they’re being dicks about it. Fess up, you assholes have your memories back, don’t you?”

“Do we?” Tobirama asked, turning to Madara with false surprise.

“We do indeed,” Madara answered.

As one their faces melted back in to the shades of evil they had worn all the way here and satisfaction rippled through Madara's chest to see both of the other men shrink back with fear. That was good. They _should_ be afraid.

“It’s very interesting to me that neither of you found a moment to correct our assumptions of a relationship that did not in truth exist,” he purred. “Very, very interesting. I should like to discuss that with the both of you. At length. And with much volume. Won’t you take a seat?”

“Now, now, there’s no need for violence.” Hashirama held up his hands as he backed away slowly.

“Isn’t there?” Tobirama asked with deadly quiet.

“You’re both happy! Things ended okay! Everything turned out for the best in the end, you can’t be mad about that!”

Holding his own ground but not looking very happy about it, Izuna snorted. “Trust me, my brother can find a reason to be mad over just about anything.”

“Right now I am mad at you,” Madara growled.

“Fair.”

Pulling anxiously at his own hair, Hashirama squeaked a little when he backed up in to his own desk, nowhere left to go. “It’s not fair at all! They’re happy, we did good for them, they should be grateful! Not angry!”

“Grateful?” Tobirama huffed. “That you lied to us? That you tricked us? You are lucky things turned out the way they did. Do you have any idea what we would have done to you if we both still hated each other after this?” Hashirama shuddered at the very idea. As he should.

“So what now?” Izuna asked. His entire body looked tense and ready for whatever was about to come his way.

“Now? Now you run,” Madara rumbled. “Because if I catch you I am going to tear that precious silky hair of yours out strand by strand and make you watch me snip it in to tiny little pieces.”

Izuna blinked. Swallowed. Then he whispered very softly, “Yes, running is a good idea.”

He was gone a moment later with Hashirama hot on his heels screaming for the younger man to hide him too. Alone in the office now, the two left behind shared a look. It was neither soft nor tender but it was very full of love. Madara took a moment to appreciate again how seamlessly they had managed to achieve the perfect balance between their true personalities and the memories of this new relationship, almost as though to love each other was an instinct except they’d needed to strip away the layers of learned responses in order to unlock it. He was glad that they did.

But that didn’t mean he wasn’t also entirely pissed off that both of their siblings would simply allow them to make fools of themselves like that. That smacked of broken trust in an awful way and both of them were going to pay for that several times over until they were ready to swear on their own graves to never do something that stupid again. To know that his autonomy had been betrayed in such a way when he was vulnerable, when he was supposed to be able to trust the people closest to him, well. Madara was unhappy to say the least.

“Shall we go hunting, my love?” Tobirama asked and Madara found it within him to smile.

“What a lovely idea. Make it a date?”

“Perfect. Do we need to discuss who gets to hunt whom?”

“I think we both know exactly who we’d like to kill the most.” Madara winked and his partner laughed.

Stepping in close for a slow deep kiss, Tobirama turned his head to eye the massive desk across the room. “I believe I have some date plans for later as well. Nothing says revenge better than contaminating the space _they_ feel safest in, yes?”

“You know, I really like the way you think.”

“Compliments later. Violence now.”

Madara nodded and when Tobirama turned for the window he was right behind the man, ready to hunt down their siblings for the first round of revenge. With his memories he had no problems recalling every last one of Izuna’s usual hidey holes and Tobirama could sense his brother from miles away even without concentrating. The village was bound to be filled with screams before very long.

And if later that night they filled it with more screams of a different tone, well, they were allowed to celebrate being able to keep this dream they hadn’t even known they wanted until it was handed to them on a silver platter. It was only their right to make merry in whatever way they chose to that night, the next night, and every night in the future that they would spend happily at each other’s’ sides.


End file.
